The PPC Halloween party was just beginning to get underway. Agents mingled here and there, some sitting at tables and chatting over food, others milling around the room, dancing and admiring each other's costumes. A long table full of sweets and snacks was set up along the back wall of the ballroom, and in the corner was a tub of apples floating in cold water. A cloud of live bats fluttered about the ceiling, à la Hogwarts, and spooky music oozed softly from speakers disguised as Jack-o'-lanterns set around the room.

Violet, wearing Wonder Woman's iconic leotard-boots-bracelets-tiara ensemble and a black wig, stopped doing the memetic zombie dance and cleared her throat. "Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand. Creatures crawl in search of blood to terrorize your neighborhood..."

"It's 'y'all's neighborhood,' get it right." Miguel gave her an annoyed look.

"And whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down/Must stand and face the hounds of hell and rot inside a corpse shell," she continued. "Yeesh, I feel like I'm summoning Hades. No wonder he got Vincent Price to do this part."

"This is one of many reasons why I love Halloween," said Miguel with a grin. "When else do you get to see Wonder Woman doing the Thriller dance?"

"I would assume the outtakes of her latest film, Mr. Bond." Violet returned his grin. "Oooh, here comes the cool part of the monologue! And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver..."

"For no mere mortal can resist..."

"The evil...of the Thriller!" they intoned. They then high-fived as Vincent Price's evil laugh echoed from the speakers.

Harry nodded and glowered, which accented the angry expression of his evil clown makeup in a frightening way. "A vecher ought to be all gromky and grahzny. Not just like jabberjaw and paper dooks. Back in the old globe, I would see gullivers getting cracked in and cables all a-razrez." He savagely mimed a cutting motion.

"Humph! Hardly. Halloween is defined by the Kids Next Door as a kids-only holiday. " Numbuh 3721 crossed her arms. She wore the traditional battle helmet of the KND, composed of kitchenware. "This overt takeover by adults is nothing more than a flagrant attempt on our candy intake, thinly disguised as an excuse to have boring chatter with each other."

The three kids stood for an awkward moment.

"Of course," said Anne, "we're just standing here talking, too."

They stood for another, much more awkward, moment.

"True enough," admitted Harry.

Numbuh 3721 pointed dramatically at the long table of sweets. "Kids Next Door: candy station!"

Or, more accurately, a nearby agent dressed in a big pointy hat and gray cloak who was carrying a long staff. This, combined with the long ragged white beard Peregrin had already had, made him look rather like Gandalf.

"We have plotholes. That is, arbitrarily large amounts of candy, if you happen to think that is a good idea. I would not recommend it, but, well, I am not you."

A skinny young man in a dark blue suit and brown coat walked up to the kids, grinning. "I agree with the kid in the silverware hat, candy's really the best part of Halloween. Certainly the only part I ever paid attention to. I'm Chris, by the way. Pleasure to meet you."

"I love your costumes," said a mid-sized brown horse. "Someday I'd like to try making one of my own, but when you have illusion magic you don't really need to. Tell me--" she turned to the girl in khakis "--are you dressed as anyone in particular or just a generic explorer?"

Anne smiled at the pony, ignoring her partner. "It's supposed to be like what Gabe and Sari wore to Egypt in The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb. They're two of the heroes from my home continuum!"

Harry and Numbuh 3721 glared at Gandalf!Peregrin. The girl said, "No, you certainly aren't us. You're an adult, which means you aren't capable of grasping the truly fun aspects of this holiday. Or of candy-binging. Why don't you go check the table for boring foods? I bet they'll have some nice broccoli over there for adults." Harry snickered.

"I don't think I ever introduced myself. I'm Ami Seeker, a My Little Pony unicorn. Chris said the theme this year was enduring characters, so I cast a spell to look like Epona. She's Link's horse from various Zelda games."

"Where are you guys from, anyway?" asked Chris. "I guess the silverware hat is supposed to be a clue but I'm drawing a blank. I'm from the Pokémon verse, myself. I almost went as James Bond, but my partner Miguel wouldn't let me wear his suit." He pouted. "Killjoy."

"It is possible that I might never understand." he continued, voice returning to its usual tone. "Maybe the old saying is true and the progress of holidays, like that of the sciences, is measured in funerals. We ancient ones do become productively set in our thoughts.". Peregrin gave a bit of a chuckle at that for some reason that was not readily apparent.

"Then again, I know rather little of this holiday. My home did not have it." he said. "So thereby I bid you teach, that I might become taught."

The formality was ruined by a muttered "Note, learn English to confirm usefulness of translator on fixed phrases." a moment later.

"Sure, I'll take you to skolliwoll. Only you'll need to supply the raw eggs, the calmaga, and the firecrackers."

"Hm." Numbuh 3721 stroked her chin. "I'm torn, actually. A world with no Halloween . . . this sad fellow has grown up lacking a critical childhood experience. Perhaps it would be correct for us to . . . make up for the lost time, as one might say?"

Harry shrugged. "Long as it involves like side-eight sladkies, I'm for it."

Anne smiled at Ami. "Very nice costume idea! I'm Anne." She turned an airy, emotionless expression on Chris. "Well, we're from the Nursery. Originally, I come from Goosebumps. Numbuh 3721 is former Kids Next Door, and she's wearing her old battle suit. Harry's from A Clockwork Orange, but he didn't dress from his home world. Some of us just snuck in to that new R-rated It movie. Harry liked it quite a bit."

(Sorry for long response times; in retrospect, a character who speaks Nadsat was a terrible, terrible idea altogether.)

"Halloween began in the days of the second alliance between children and adults. It seemed a successful partnership at first, with chore duties shared, and children once again had access to Earth's many environments they hadn't been able to enjoy during their exile on the moon.

"The peace, of course, couldn't last. When adults built the brainwashing institutions called 'schools,' children began to rebel against the tedium of the school day and the time wasted on homework. On cool, dark nights in autumn, small groups of children would put on disguises and cause mischief for adults. Most kids didn't want to terrorize the parents assigned to their family units they had come to know and love, but would sneak around to the houses of neighboring adults.

"At first, the children only wore frightening disguises, terrorizing the adults into giving them food and other treats to make the kids go away. Soon, though, the adults learned what was happening, and were no longer frightened. Then, the kids changed tactics, using one to ring the front doorbell and distract the adults through talking while the rest of the group infiltrated the home and took what they want. Eventually, the adults learned it was easier to keep a bowl of candy near the door, always ready to bribe any children at the door to go away so they could stay inside and guard from intrusion—they had come recognize that their choice was a treat, or be tricked.

"After many decades, "trick-or-treating" had become a tradition among kid culture, with a special day set aside for its observance. Adults eventually forgot its true origins, and began to celebrate it in their own, curious way, with terribly uninteresting parties without enough candy. But we children still remember the truth behind the so-called 'holiday:' a period of rebellion and empowerment against the rigid structuralism that adults impose upon us all year long."

Harry stared at her with an open mouth for a moment. Then, he turned to Peregrin and said, "Really, it's just an excuse to knock things over and crast stuff with your droogs."

((Actually, as far as I can tell through memory and research, the Kids Next Door don't seem to attach much importance to Halloween. Call this a fringe theory, call 3721 an AU character, whatever works.))

"Where I'm from, both the costumes and the candy are to keep the spirit of Nightmare Moon--that's Princess Luna's superpowered evil side, by the way--from eating us. The costumes fool her into thinking there aren't any ponies around, and the candy is insurance."

Chris was even more dazed at the explanation. "What...? What the heck kind of place is the Kids Next Door-verse, anyway?"

"So, hmmm, wildly diverging accounts" Peregrin said to himself, pointing at various locations in empty space as he thought "common elements. Naming collisions? Well, possibly, but we cannot simply ... So where, where, how would, cultural segmentation? .. No, one of the accounts carries distinct histories. So, inheritance by filtering? That could be it. Yes. Yes."

He looked at the two kids he'd been talking to again. "Were your home universes partly defined in the same place, say, World One?" he asked. "No wait, that is rather technical wording. Is there, ah, a universe I could go to where I could find stories about both the canons you came from? And is Halloween a holiday there?"

Harry turned to Ami and raised his eyebrows. "Your princess eats lewdies?" A cracked grin spread across his face. "I didn't realize Ponyville could get like so horrorshow!"

Anne explained to Chris, "Kids Next Door is a cartoon, and it gets pretty wild. Every episode veers wildly between taking itself way too seriously, and taking nothing seriously at all. The actual Kids Next Door themselves are all pretty hardcore about what they do."

As answer to Peregrin, Numbuh 3721 said, "We know how the worlds work, thank you very much. World One contains both a tv series made from my world, and a novel made from Harry's. And it has Halloween, though the resident children of World One have had its true history wiped from their minds in school. I'm sure there must be other variants of Earth that have all three as well."

"But that's a long story. Luna herself was really offended the first time she saw a Nightmare Night party; it didn't help that every time she tried to fit in she just scared the townsponies even more. But she's come around to the idea now. Also, what are 'lewdies'?"

"Yeah, you've been using a lot of weird words this whole time, Joker Jr.," Chris cut in. "What's the deal?"

"Well, that will need investigating, but this does not seem like an appropriate time." There was, after all, some sort of party going on.

He pulled out a small notebook and opened it up to a page near the back, which was almost entirely black from the various notes that had been written there. "Halloween - World One sources?" he wrote somewhat diagonally (but surprisingly neatly, for diagonal text) near the margin.

"We were, after all, doing, ... uh, doing, going ... why are we here, anyhow? It had something to do with candy, I think." he said, having gotten a bit sidetracked by the whole discussion.

"Oh, does you want an appy polly loggy that my slovos are too bolshy and messel like for some zallky ded with a malenky mozg to pony? Best not boohoo, 'cause your lovely Ingles ain't so special like, and I'll govoreet as I'll please, viddy that? Oh, and put to the record: lewdies is just all the chellovecks, right? So you're a chelloveck, I'm a chelloveck, and we're here all chellovecks, but we're all all of us here the lewdies, okay?" He fluttered his eyelashes.

"Jeeze, you're such a jerk," Anne muttered to him. "Harry speaks some weird Russian English thing from his home world. We mostly get what he means from context and tone, but half of what he says isn't worth hearing anyway. Don't think about it too much, and don't be insulted. It's just a teen rebellion thing." Quietly, she added, "Even though he's only
nine."

Harry flipped her off with one hand.

"yes, I'm so impressed with how adult and mature you are."

Harry flipped her off with both hands.

Numbuh 3721, meanwhile, nodded to Peregrin. "Indeed, we were making for the candy table. A heavy dose of candy consumption at one sitting will be the first step in your Halloween education."

"It is not much stranger than anything else the multiverse has come up with."

"After you, then?" he asked.

In response to Anne's explanation of Henry's speech patterns, he said "That would explain why Henry sounds like several hundred years of intense linguistic blending, at least by my world's standards as I know them."

...Although perhaps calling an 8-foot-tall bioengineered supersoldier a "man" is a bit misleading.

"Remind me, again, how I allowed myself to be convinced to do this," said Thoth. His helmet was off, as usual, revealing a pale face and, surprisingly, a long beard. "It will take an eternity to strip this coat of paint from my armor, and growing this beard was... an unwise decision."

Tom grinned, taking a swig of Coke. "You're the one who can read minds. I just thought it would be funny. Which it is. Maybe you have more of a sense of humor than you say you do."

Thoth's face darkened. "Had you been there, you would perhaps not think it so funny. However, I allowed myself to be convinced: Perhaps you have a point. I shall reflect upon it after the end of this... ceremony."

Tom frowned, adjusting his costume - red robes, the Mechanicum symbol, and a frankly excessive number of prosthetics. "Thoth, I am sorry for your loss. If it helps... don't think of this as a ceremony. Think of it as an opportunity to mock your greatest enemies and longstanding rivals.'

The edges of Thoth's lips twitched upwards, forming the beginnings of a smile. "Once again, you make a good point." He adjusted the fur cloak hung over his armour, making visible the wolf icon inscribed on his pauldron, which was now grey-blue and yellow in contrast with its usual bright blue and gold. "Drinking contest, anyone?"

It took him quite by surprise, though it really shouldn't have. It had been a drunken and emotionally tumultuous evening, with a healing thrown in to boot, and that would tend to catch up with anyone.

Jenni smiled at him. "Maybe we should all think about going home."

(( I'm pretty much out of ideas. Jenni would love to engage Thoth in a philosophical conversation about the interconnected yet separate nature of the immaterial realms of the multiverse, but I feel like that would be rather dull for everyone else. ˆ_ˆ; Shall we wrap it up? ))

Thoth's armor burned for a moment, changing from the colors of the Space Wolves to his regular blue and gold. "I, too, will go. It seems that I have more than ever to learn. And it is good to have my own colors again."

The two men took their leave.

((Ahriman did it to a bunch of marines all at once. As a result I'm working off the assumption that it's not that difficult to change your armor's color.))

Catching up, she hesitated and laughed at herself. "This might be silly, but I'm running with it anyway. Would you permit me to make you a rather ostentatious, slightly personal gesture? You'd need to take a knee..."

(( One final item on the RP Goals checklist, if it is permitted. {= ) ))

"Because I am what I am, and you are what you are, I have this fancy that we might send a message to the multiverse at large. We'll see." She gave her signature wry half-smile, then grew solemn, and laid her hands on Thoth's bare temples in an attitude of benediction. "You were made for war, and have known more than anyone's fair share of horror and grief. I have neither the power nor the right to correct the imbalance at the source, but if I could, I would. There are benevolent forces in the multiverse; there is hope; there are second chances. In token of that, I say to you: go now in peace and in love, that you might know both, and show that it was possible." She drew his head down and placed a soft kiss on his crown, then released him and stepped back.

(( In the category of "mental images I couldn't get out of my head," since days (at least!) before I saw the bit in the bio about Thoth looking for redemption. That's just when I knew I had to go through with it, forced segue be damned. {= ) ))

"I can remember a time when peace was close. When we spoke of what we would do after the war that we had been built for. That hope was torn from us. In part, by the actions of my brothers and my primarch. We turned our backs on those we were made to protect, even as they turned their backs on us. There was no turning back."

"But here... here, I am outside His reach. I am free, for the first time in millenia." He smiled slightly. "I suppose, in a way, I have begun to serve my purpose again."

"If you ever need anything—either of you," she added, having not forgotten Tom, "my office in FicPsych is C-14. If the door's open, come on in. Or just, you know, reach out. I don't mind," she told Thoth. "... Now, I'd hug you both, but you're a walking tank and you're all over pointy bits. So I'll just say goodnight."

She waved, wiggling her fingers.

Next, to make sure Gall took proper care of her partner, and then home herself to make sure Henry and his friends hadn't eaten themselves comatose on chocolate.

Jenni sighed. You could lead a horse to water, etc. Oh well. This one wasn't hers, and there was only so much meddling a new acquaintance would tolerate. "All right. Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Are you sure you want to jump back into that circus, though?"

Tom sighed. He pulled a spare metal plate off his costume. "Thoth, demonstrate, would you?"

Thoth took the plate and spit on it. The liquid sizzled, bubbling ominously and leaving a hole in the plate. "My spit is acid. It is occasionally useful, although sometimes inconvenient."

"And," said Tom, "it's a good charge for any Sue who endeavors to kiss a Space Marine - rare, but fun when it happens. Or rather, popping the into a reality room afterwards is fun." He looked at Derik. "Oh. Sorry..."

There was a sudden breeze, and Charlotte appeared beside them, her elegant gown held above her knees and her hair coming unpinned. "Is everything alright?" she asked, and then her nostrils flared. "You're bleeding!"

"Cool!" Gall said. "But you might've mentioned that when I was hitting on you, man." She leaned over and backhanded his arm. It went clang. "Ow."

Derik tetchily waved off Tom's concern. "I told you, that doesn't bother me. I thought it would be a good story. Apparently I'm rustier than I knew."

Whilst...

"Oh! Hi, Charlotte," Jenni said, blinking in the gust. As to whether everything was all right... "More or less. The Ironic Overpower is having its way with some of us. Bad timing, mostly, I think." She looked over at the other group, who seemed fine. "Derik's always a bit unpredictable, and it's worse under the influence. He didn't mean anything, though; you know that, right?" she asked Ix.

(( Hm, some sources say the acid is activated at will. That would seem to make sense. ... I reckon Elms is the most likely to secretly enjoy Twilight, and is also a down-to-earth sort who might be good for offsetting its nonsense. But FicPsych is so small that I believe everyone has at least heard of just about everyone. Apparently not since Charlotte got partnered with Ix, though. ))

"Ah! Well, anyways, it doesn't always work - Space Marine biology is poorly defined at best, sometimes the acid is something they can control - but it's nicely ironic when it does. Unless of course the Sue is also a Space Marine. Which is between one and five charges in and of itself..."

Thoth nodded. "A Sue who dares to think itself an Astartes deserves no less than a painful death. Possibly prolonged." He took a long swig of mjød.

Derik's lip curled. "Or a singer. Or, scorch us, all bloody three." He took a deep drink from his cup and was once more disappointed that it was only water.

Gall wished she had a drink at all, but, though she'd never admit it, her stomach still wasn't quite right after her one taste of mjød. So she settled for teasing Thoth some more. "Just to be clear, Jötun: are you drinking to forget my charms again—cuz don't think I didn't notice that the first time—or is it that you've got a sordid tale of Sueage for us?"

Concurrently...

Jenni added her voice to Ix's: "No, no, no, please don't set him off again." She continued, "It wasn't even anything he said, really. At least, I don't think so." She tilted her head at Ix. "Was it?"

(( I'm honestly not sure if he'd give ground or explode in the face of Charlotte's wrath. Probably the former, but with him it could always go either way. {Also, Derik, what horror did you just conjure? O_o ∗goes to inspect 40K crossovers just in case∗ }))

"The way he looked at me when he saw me..." Ix swallowed. "I think it's the costume—I should've known it would be sensitive for other agents, I should've just worn my robes and said I was Mad-Eye Moody and they wouldn't suspect a thing—"

Charlotte put her hands on her shoulders. "Ix. Hon. Breathe."

Ix sucked down several deep breaths.

"You want me to go over there and clarify with wossisface that he's not mad at you?" Charlotte asked. "Because I can totally do that."

Ix swallowed. "If—if you want," she began, knowing there was no arguing with Charlotte. Before she could finish, Charlotte had zipped over to Derik and gently tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, hi, sorry to interrupt. Just heard there was a bit of heated words exchanged over my girlfriend's costume. You cool with her now?"

What actually happened was that one foot went out from under him so that he keeled to the right, caromed off Thoth, spilled water on himself, and landed on his ass. But at least he was facing Charlotte now.

Gall burst out laughing.

Derik blinked and massaged his right hand. He'd banged his knuckles again, because of course he had, and it bloody hurt. "Sorry. Didn't catch that," he growled.

A lot was happening to him all at once. He'd just noticed the wet splash on his costume when it went away, there was Ix going off in one ear and Charlotte being sarcastic in the other, Gall still snickering at him, and everybody else staring. His head swung from Charlotte to Ix and back again in befuddlement.

"What?" he finally said. "Yes! At least I thought so until just now! Was I wrong?" Again the bewildered looks back and forth, like a kicked dog that doesn't understand what he's done to incur his master's wrath.

Derik just scowled at Charlotte and turned himself around again, holding his swollen right hand to his chest.

Jenni couldn't take it anymore and knelt by his left side, one hand on his shoulder. "Would you please let me do something with that?" she murmured, sotto voce. "Or Ix? Or him, even?" She pointed her eyes at Thoth. She didn't trust the idea of 40K warp-sorcery at all—and that was the way she imagined the Astartes had meant to help—but she'd force down her own raised hackles if it got the job done.

Derik would have preferred to be left alone entirely at the moment, and only felt more humiliated by the nurse's concern for his idiotic self-injury. Shockingly, it turned out that punching a wall, even with a mirror on it, might not have been such a good idea after all, but he'd be dashed if he was going to admit it when he'd already been made to look a fool. He leaned away and growled something incoherent along the lines of "push off."

Willfully oblivious to this by-play, Gall turned back to Thoth. "So, before that hilarious interruption, I asked you a question. Got a story for us, or do you admit that I'm rocking your sad, repressed world?" She grinned at him, well aware of exactly how full of it she was.

Charlotte folded her arms uncomfortably. "You and Ix both, actually? Because I haven't fed in a while and the smell of blood is making me really thirsty. I'd rather not turn this Halloween party into a full-fledged horror show."

Ix blanched and hurriedly pulled out her wand to heal her own hands. "I'm so sorry, Lottie, I didn't even think—"

"If you would like me to fix it, for Charlotte's sake, I am quite capable. The Great Ocean surrounding Headquarters is extremely calm. In fact, since the... retcon, I believe it was called, I am not entirely certain it is even the same Great Ocean across all dimensions. If The Four are present, they are far less powerful here."

"Ugh," Gall groaned in exasperation. "Quit sulking and give over already, or I'll come over there and 'fix' it."

That prospect was alarming enough to shake him. "All right! Do what you're going to do. I don't care who."

"Drama queen," Gall grumbled.

"Shut up!"

He held his hand out a little way, and that was enough for Jenni to seize the opportunity, and it. Derik gritted his teeth through her examination. At a particular wince, she nodded grimly.

"Uh-huh. Fifth metacarpal neck fracture. I'm not surprised." She sighed. "The Flowers still get twitchy if I do anything too overtly supernatural, so here's what I propose: I slather this with numbweed, your buddy Thoth drives the psychic bone-setting engine, and I keep a hand on the steering wheel just in case. Is that all right with everyone?"

(( I know Ix could probably do it, but I wanna make the mutually-slightly-distrustful psychics collaborate. ∗puppy eyes∗

"I don't know if that's a thing," Jenni added, "but anyway, I am." She popped open a case on her utility belt and produced a small, brown glass jar that contained a creamy white salve.

While she gently rubbed a dollop into Derik's knuckles (numbing her own fingers in the process), she opened her mind and tentatively reached out to Thoth, just brushing the edge of his awareness. ~Testing, testing... is this thing on?~ She glanced up and gave him a wry half-smile. She was nervous, and a little embarrassed to be nervous, and she let him feel it. It wasn't personal, it was just a sort of bitter aftertaste, a dissonant semitone, that was woven into the fabric of his universe and set her on edge. It scared her, not so much because she felt threatened, but because she felt tempted to address it. What might a being like herself accomplish in sweetening what was bitter, in tuning the clashing chords, and bringing redemption and hope where there was only tragedy and despair?

Not enough, and yet too much.

(( Jenni: Freelance Power of Healing and Second Chances. Or something like that. Just to be clear, the Chaos Gods would eat her for breakfast. ))

He marshalled his thoughts, going through the Enumerations in his head, focusing his mind on the task at hand.This was a simple task, really, but he wasn't the most adept biomancer, and it wouldn't do to make a mistake now.

He lay his hands gently upon Derik's arm, feeling the damage, finding the best ways to correct it.

Merging a little more deeply into Thoth's consciousness, she could feel his concentration and concern, and liked him better for it.

~The body has everything it needs to heal itself, wanting only time and energy,~ she advised, ~but it tends to go overboard if left to its own devices. The trick is to restrain as much as to encourage... like a carefully pruned topiary. Though, that said, don't let's leave any bone matrix in the shape of dolphins or unicorns or whatever.~

It was a funny image, but she withdrew it and got serious, not wishing to undo Thoth's mental preparations. She laid a hand on his, just to reinforce that she was there, ready to help and guide if necessary. "Ready, Derik?" She put her other hand on his shoulder again, completing the circuit.

He was watching them, aware that things were happening beyond his ken. With his pain dulled by numbweed, curiosity surfaced and his resentment at being ganged up on receded. He nodded. "Yes."

Thoth released the energy, keeping it tightly controlled as he pushed in into Derik, concentrating on the task at hand. He could not lose control, but to think as such was to do so. He kept his mind above such thoughts, focusing on what he was doing in that instant: bringing the bones together, sealing the cuts and scrapes, ensuring that his corrections did not cause additional damage.

He may have been, by the standards of the Pavoni, a poor biomancer. But he'd had 10,000 years to hone the craft channeling power from a more chaotic source. Well, more or less 10,000. Time was funny in the Eye. But he wasn't thinking about that, not now.

The sensation wasn't painful, exactly; more of a deep itch as his tissue and bone knit itself back together at rapid speed. He watched in fascination.

Jenni did chip in a little, helping to sweep the excess lymph and the debris of broken cells away from the fracture site, to be disposed of properly by the appropriate organs. Mere janitorial work, really, but it gave her satisfaction to be an active part of the effort. It was good to do what she was meant for, and she was pleased with the painstaking job Thoth was doing, too. She shared her love with the others—all of them, for a brief moment, before she reined in her aura again.

"It is, in fact, done." He turned to Jenni. "Do try to keep a tighter grip on your aura in the future should we work together again. I am sensitive to such things, and the additional distraction makes it harder to keep my mind focused. I can, of course, do it, but there is no need to make the task more difficult. And I do not like to think of what may happen if my focus were to slip. Other than that..." He gave a short bow. "It was a pleasure to work with you. You are clearly quite skilled."

Jenni withdrew completely, like a luminous green and blue anemone retreating into its dark column. She wouldn't have let anything bad happen, but he was right; she had no excuse to be projecting all over the place like a neonate. Cut off and alone in her mind again, she felt diminished, but at his ending words she raised her eyes, and their liveliness had returned.

"You're not so bad yourself," she said, smiling. "I'd say 'any time', but I'm under some pretty tight restrictions here. This was probably a once-off thing." She sighed and turned to Derik. "How's it feel?"

He'd been flexing his hand, testing it out, and he nodded. "Still numb, of course, but moving well. Strong. Thank you, friends. I am unworthy of you." At Charlotte's remark, he added, "The next time I do something that stupid, I'll come to Ix first, and spare everyone else a repeat performance." Even he wasn't sure how much he meant it.

"Want to hear the story about the Bill/Hermione fic where Bill and Lupin both had an 'inner wolf' that would periodically take over their minds and make them do disgusting things?" She shrugged. "I don't really know what else might qualify."

Charlotte began her tale, happily oblivious of Ix slowly edging away from the group. "The worst offenders were the ones that had made themselves at home in the werewolves' heads. Seriously, we had them saying things like they were owed access to 'female' bodies, and whenever the replaced canons regained control, they would agree. And meanwhile, there were otherworldly angelic beings watching this from the astral plane, eating popcorn and laughing at the spectacle." She shuddered. "You really had to be there to understand how bad it was. And the whole time, Hermione was begging and pleading to be let go before just giving up and accepting her lot in life."

Charlotte held up both hands. "Like, you had the replaced canon, and then living inside their head was a separate malignant entity. And they kept fighting each other for dominance, but the only major difference is that one was more vocal about how horny they were."

Ix was on the edge of the group by now, and was very glad of it when she caught Charlotte's words. She bit back a strangled choking noise and started coughing.

"As for the angelic beings, they were... I dunno what the deal with them was, other than they were into voyeurism and took bets on what the characters would do next," Charlotte said, making a face. "Absolutely no place for them in the Potterverse."

"No RPGs," said Jenni. "That's too meta even for me. But, if you lot want to start something, go ahead! I should get going soon anyway; the boys are probably about done trick-or-treating. ... Bets on whether the eight-year-old or the Andalite will have the worst sugar rush?"

(( Sorry, had a heck of a time trying to think of how Gall and Derik might answer the question of what games they know. So I decided not to. >.> ))

"That's cool. Did he tell you to do the scary grin at people who are bugging you? That's always hilarious. C'mon, give us a scary grin!"

Meanwhile...

Derik managed to weave his way out of the crowd with a minimum of awkward collisions. After relieving himself, he felt a bit better; a full bladder could wreck even a sane and sober man's mental coherence. He washed up, splashed his face, and stood staring at the mirror above the sink. The symbol of the Green Lanterns stood out on his chest.

"Willpower," he muttered. "You're a disgrace to that uniform."

Leaning against the wall outside, Jenni started at a crunch of glass and a muffled yelp. She spun around, quite prepared to barge in, but the door opened before she could get her hand on it and she almost ran into Derik coming out. Startled in turn, he reared back, flailing, and they grabbed onto each other's arms.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, scowling. He'd restored the green domino mask over his eyes.

"What are you doing?" she retorted. She turned over his right hand, took in the freshly reddened knuckles, and looked up in expectant concern.

"Restoring a measure of clarity," he answered. "Don't look so panicked, it's not a habit. But it is effective."

A thousand protests were on her tongue, but she swallowed them. "All right. Now what?"

"Now I go back and apologize like a man, tell the story I promised, and go home before anything else ironic happens. Coming?"

Jenni sighed. "You bet."

(( Aaaaaaangst angst angst angst. Sorry if that was a bit on the darker side, but once the image got in my head, it wouldn't go away. Building Maintenance is going to be ticked off about that mirror. {= P ))

"No. I want to be able to bang it against something if I need another dose."

Jenni shook her head. She wasn't sure if he was quoting House on purpose or not, but it didn't matter. She contented herself with fending him off from running into anyone on the way back and detouring to the drinks table for a big cup of water. "Here. I heard your voice cracking."

Derik glanced down at the cup and gave her a skeptical look. "You'd have a harper wet his throat with plain water? The Master would be appalled."

She flinched. "Hey! Invoking Robinton is below the belt. And you'd better start hydrating anyway, or you'll be a worse mess tomorrow. Unless you want the hangover."

"I dunno if it was scary," Gall said, looking at Ix closely. "The weird shadow thing, though... is it a Phantom thing? Does it come with the mask and stuff? Cuz—oh, hey, One-eye. Totally not talking about your weirdness behind your back!" She grinned.

Derik rolled his eye(s).

[Ix] swallowed when the others returned to the group. "I'm sorry," she said again to Derik.

"No, I'm the one who must apologize. To everyone," he answered, looking around to include Thoth and Tom (and probably even Gall). "My behavior has been atrocious, and I can only hope for your forbearance. ... If you'll permit me, I would like to deliver the part of the tale that I promised, and then I'll go."

She could never help being irritated when prevented from doing her work.

"It's all right for now," Derik said. "But thank you... brother." He nodded and laid his free hand on Thoth's wolf-painted pauldron. In addition to being a companionable gesture, it helped him stay upright, since Gall hadn't seen fit to give up the chair and he didn't want to start a fresh fight about it.

(( Yup, visible if you're looking. Was also banking on Space Marine senses to help engineer this really delightful moment. ˆ_ˆ Assuming in turn that Thoth is siting on the floor, based on this post.))

Barring all the other excellent reasons he was no good for anyone, he was surely too old for Ix, and he suddenly regretted his choice of a skin-tight costume that might tend to attract attention to his physique. He glanced at Gall, who tended to have one of two reactions to other girls noticing him: jovial agreement or bitter enmity, with scant middle ground.

In this instance, her eyes had narrowed at Ix, but once she mentioned her girlfriend, the Viking relaxed again. She left Ix and Tom to it and turned to her partner. "So are you gonna finish the story, or what?"

(( Derik (and I) are really waiting for an invitation to go on. Or a clear sign that he/I shouldn't. As the case may be. ))

She quailed under Gall's glare and forced herself to focus on Tom. "She's a Twilight vampire... she came as Christine today... um..." She swallowed again and glanced at Derik. "Sorry. Um. Continue, please?"

And suddenly all eyes were on him again. "Right." He took a preparatory drink of water. It was good, and he did need it; he'd have to remember to say something nice to Jenni later. But now, he had said he would do this, and whatever else he was, he was a man who upheld his commitments. "Where was I...?"

"Awake in FicPsych, about to give me conniptions," Jenni said with a half-smile.

"Right," he said again. "Erik, the original Erik, had just left me with his injunction to live ringing in my ears. I wasn't thinking clearly, but I got up and found my few belongings—my boots, my belt, my flight jacket—and I started walking. If you've lived in Headquarters for any amount of time, you know it's nearly impossible to get where you're going if you think about it, but it's equally impossible to get anywhere if you're as empty of purpose and drive as I was. I went on in that fugue state for some time, I don't know how long. At times I slept, and then I would get up and go on again. I saw no one, or if I did, I don't recall... but I felt as though someone, or something, was watching me, guiding my steps.

"I had gone by many doors, all the same, and taken no heed of them, but finally I came to one I could not pass by. This portal that loomed up before me was different from the others. It was large, and I could feel the heaviness of its metal. Something ominous was on the other side, but I wasn't afraid—I was still numb. With no thought of any direction but forward in my mind, I turned its great wheel and stepped inside.

"The door slammed shut behind me, and I was in total darkness. Robbed of vision, I stopped.

"But something could see me. This presence was not sapient, I think, but it had logic and a purpose with me. Everything I was, had been, and might have been was laid bare to it, as though I were as insubstantial as the spoken word. First it looked at me and through me, and then it began to change me."

He had to pause for another sip of water.

"The first thing I knew differently was knowing. Whereas before all I could hold in my mind was my half-life with Alanna in our narrow, ill-begotten mockery of Pern, now I knew my world as it really is. And I knew my real place in it. Not as a Weyrleader, because the leadership of all the Weyrs is well known, but yet a bronzerider, one who chose a life in the untamed Southern Continent during the Ninth Pass. Before that, a harper, and a headstrong, reckless young man."

He shook his head ruefully. "I said I would tell you how I lost my eye twice in one day, and now we come to the point. You've seen my face." He took off the green domino mask so they could get another look. The right side was covered in a sunken, sinusoidal pattern of scars. They extended down the side of his neck, down into his unitard. They'd cut through part of his right eyebrow and left his hairline ragged. They had caused muscle damage and distortion that left the right side of his mouth permanently stretched to the side and unable to properly pull up in a smile. And they had taken the sight from his right eye. "This is Threadscar. This is the hazard we face on Pern, and it is what dragonriders exist to combat. I remember when I got this.

"It was our first Threadfall. No more were Skepnadth and I confined to the ground. At last, we were in the air, where we were meant to be! Our job was to carry firestone to the fighting wings—firestone is the substance that gives a dragon his flame. We had practiced our throw over and over, and we were good at it. We were strong, our power boundless, and our joy fierce. ... Every man thinks he's immortal at nineteen. A Fall lasts four hours, and I began to tire of the heavy goggles on my face. I was hot; sweat dripped into my eyes, and I could hardly see. So, fool that I was, I took them off. Just for a little while, I thought. We were such excellent flyers, what could possibly go wrong?

"A thick tangle of Thread. A gust of wind. Both of us screaming, the sound swallowed in cold between as Skepnadth jumped to safety. We were lucky to live."

He paused. The memory was strong, painful in many ways. But he'd indulged himself in grief quite sufficiently for one night.

"I remember when I got this," he said again, indicating his scars with a nod and a raised cup. "I was standing in the dark with a face belonging to another man. But something looked at me, and saw a dragonman, not a Phantom. It changed me. I felt the sting of something superficial sinking deep into my flesh... and when the door to the Reality Room opened again, I was half-blind, who had been twice blinded. ... And lucky to live."

(( Disclaimer: Derik might be exaggerating about the Reality Room just a tad for poetic effect. But don't go in there if you're at all impossible. ))

Ix looked down at the ground, twisting the stem of her rose until it began to split. "About your eye, and, and your friend. My, uh, my mum read the books to me. And... I don't think the words did it justice, describing what that felt like. I can't even imagine..."

She resisted the urge to stare, instead keeping her eyes on the ground. He looked... almost the same as her. A mirror image. It was more than a little unsettling.

He had rather warmed to his performance as it went on, and this was not the reaction he'd hoped for. "What...? No, you've missed the point. That was the good part."

Jenni had to laugh, a small, contained chuckle. "Oh, Derik. What about the part after that, where you battled your way back to FicPsych, terrified poor Elms, and proceeded to muscle your way through a heavy dose of fellis juice in order to help us fight off the Mary Sue invasion?"

"You shouldn't have dosed me," he muttered mulishly.

"You were falling-down exhausted and shouldn't have been moving, let alone running around fighting Sues! He did, though," she told the others. "I wasn't there—I thought I'd left him safely asleep and had gone to help in Medical—but I'm told it was impressive."

"Right! It was!" Derik held up his cup to her. "So please stop pitying me, for the Egg's sake!"

(( You can pity him if you want. He's still a hot mess. {= ) BTW, all the events he's told of were originally written in this mission and this story, if you wanna get the details. It was fun retelling it all as Derik, though, so thank you for indulging me. ˆ_ˆ ))

"Sorry," she stammered. "I wasn't—I was just—I'm sorry—won't mention it again—" She glanced around at the others as if hoping one of them would come to her rescue. "You, uh, you must be a really good fighter, then?" She cringed and ducked her head.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Could you be any more obvious you don't know how to carry on a conversation? Pathetic.

"Less good, more brute strength and bloody-mindedness. When you can swing a twenty-pound sledgehammer like this guy, you don't really have to be good. Now, me, on the other hand..." She got up and hefted her mace, which she'd kept on her belt because it fit her costume and no amount of good sense could talk her into leaving it behind. "If me and Fellrazer had been there, we'd have wasted them!" She gave the mace a half-speed swing to demonstrate.

Her breathing started to drift towards hyperventilating, though, and she dug her nails into her palms until she bled. The pain helped her to think a little more clearly, and she sucked down several deep breaths. It helped, a little.

"Must you all wield such dangerous weapons and scare people like that? I usually wield sinister demons from beyond this realm forced into service although they would love to break free and destroy me and anyone nearby. And I'm fine..."

Thoth looked unflinchingly at Gall. "Sheer bloody-mindedness can get you a reasonable distance in a fight. Although I have my own prefered means, of course..."

"Yeah, that sounds much safer. I'm sure that's never gotten horribly out of control. I, on the other hand, am in complete control of my weapon at all times." She showed this by extending her spiky mace like a sabre and poking it at Thoth's breastplate in what she fully realized was an absurd move, because she could.

Derik facepalmed, wobbling slightly.

Jenni watched warily, one arm around Ix's shoulders.

(( Thoth, you are invited to deal with Gall and her mace in whatever way you please, and I'll run with it. {= )

(( Jenni will be happy to help Ix with her hands if it comes to her attention, but I can't figure a way she'd notice yet with only normal perception. ))

"Even casually, I would not suggest threatening me." His voice was low, and entirely calm. "That is one of approximately twelve ways I could have dealt with that scenario. The rest of them would have been far less pleasant for you. I hope that we understand one another."

Tom nodded to Gall, acting as if nothing had happened. "Well, it does go wrong occasionally. I did tell her not to touch that wire - had to go before the auditors for that..." He shivered visibly. "However, that means that we're more cautious than someone with an ordinary weapon is."

She looked on in horror at the ruin of her mace. "That wasn't a threat, yak-brain! You're like the one guy I literally couldn't threaten if I tried!"

Derik was taken aback, but unsure how to respond. On the one hand, Gall was attached to her weapon and was likely to mope and carry on about this until she could get Agent Brightbeard to repair it, possibly even after, and he couldn't help feeling a little sympathy for her. On the other hand, she did so richly deserve to be checked, even thus harshly. He settled for a muted "Steady, there," which might have been addressed to anyone. He did find himself awkwardly patting Thoth's pauldron, for all the effect that would have.

It was Jenni who jumped into the middle, putting out her hands and turning 'round to create a space between Gall, Thoth, and Ix. "Easy, everyone!" She then spoke to Gall: "You were asking for trouble, so hush, and keep your pointies to yourself next time." Then Thoth: "And you, you could have just taken it away, and I reckon we'd all have cheered you on. I know your universe doesn't leave much room for temperance, but work on it more, eh? You're not a child to break things in a fit of pique." She gazed steadily into his eyes, one immortal to another.

(( Hehehe. Sorry, Tom, nobody else is gonna just let that slide. Too many Neutral to Lawful Good types about.

(( FYI, I won't be able to respond as much as I have been going forward, at least not Tu, W, and F. My boss was on vacation last week, so I could have my laptop out at work without being accused of slacking off, but alas, that golden time is over. ))

"And don't worry, the only authority I have is 'moral', and even there I've got people who'd argue the point... or would have."

Derik was relieved, too, and felt happier taking his new friend's part. "It's all right, mate. The wretch had the lesson coming—and look, all's well."

Meanwhile, Gall took her mace tentatively from Ix, somewhat shocked at getting it back in one piece so suddenly. "Huh. Thanks, Bucktooth. You're all right." She slapped Ix bracingly on the shoulder and made to slide the mace back into its loop on her belt, and her hand encountered a stickiness on the haft. "Oi, what...? Hey, did you cut yourself or something?"

A shadow has passed over Jenni's face, but just as quickly lifted, and she turned around, concerned. "Ix?"

(( And now I dash out the door. Might be able to sneak something in around 2:30-3:00 CST, but otherwise, I'll check in again this evening. ))

"I'm fine," she stuttered, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Please don't hurt me, I—I can clean that..." Her eyes darted around as she scanned for the closest exits. If Gall didn't want to listen, she could be out the door in approximately eight seconds. Less, if that crowd of agents between her and the exit happened to part.

Unless she Apparated out? No, she didn't want to try that in HQ again. She'd been lucky enough to arrive in one piece as it was.

Besides, for all she knew, Jenni could talk to the Flowers. And then the Flowers could decide she was more trouble than she was worth and throw her out. And then what? Her memory wiped, no place to her name, no safety net during the full moon and no Wolfsbane—

"I got blood on her mace," Ix said, ashamed. "I... I can clean it, though, it wouldn't be any trouble. I didn't mean to lose my temper, it was an accident, please..."

"That's what you're worried about?" He tried not to laugh: that wouldn't help. "Ix, I don't think anyone's upset with you. Honestly, I think most of us are just wondering if you're okay... Are you okay?"

His excitable energy, well-meaning though it was, was reason number one she'd wanted to step away, and he had not been invited along.

"Yes, thank you," she said curtly. "A moment, please?" She pointed him back to the others.

With a perimeter firmly established, Jenni calmed her own feelings and addressed Ix again. "He's not wrong," she said. "But first things first: where are you hurt?"

Meanwhile...

With the others out of earshot, Gall shrugged, stuck her mace back in its belt loop, brushed her hands off on her trousers, and sat back on the chair. "So, Jötun, we're cool, right? You know I was just messing around. Didn't think you take me seriously. I mean, come on!"

"Do I detect the meagerest hint of an apology?" Derik muttered dryly. He gave in to gravity at this point and plopped down on the floor beside Thoth. Much easier.

"Cuz I was thinking about inviting you to join our Australian Indoor-Rules Quiddich team, but—"

Derik, who had settled into the amiable state of drunkenness he'd shot through earlier, barked a laugh. "That is a horrible idea! No offense, brother—rather the opposite—but it hardly seems fair."

"So? No rule says the teams have to be fair. Blast Hardcheese got killed last season, and I don't want a repeat. Even the Physical Therapy nerds kicked our asses thanks to their precog and your totally divided loyalties."

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that if Nevermind can have a kender, we ought to be able to have a giant. I hate playing those guys; half the time we can't even find the stupid ball cuz it's 'fallen into his pocket' again."

"Yeah, but he's sweet on Green-eyes over there, so he doesn't want to bust up her friends. You both suck when we're against PT, so we need some muscle who's willing to do the damn job. Look at this guy." She gestured at Thoth. "We could just have him stand in front of us and let the other guys knock themselves out trying to get through!"

(( Sorry for running long, but this argument has been playing in my head all day. >_>; ))

Meanwhile...

"No, I'm not upset with you," Jenni said. "No one is. Gall's happy to have her mace back, and I agreed with you jumping in. I only did myself because I thought it was safest if things did escalate any further. Fortunately, they didn't." She smiled. "Now... are you going to be stubborn like 'GL' over there, or are you going to let me have a look at you?"

She wasn't about to show off the malunion and scars that gnarled her hands. "It's just little cuts," she said. "No big deal, really, I can heal it myself." She swallowed, worrying that what she said had come off as rude. "I'm sure you could do a good job, though," she said, "but I don't want to trouble you."

"Thoth, standing still in a fight... heh, that's a good one. I'm siding with Derik in this one: I'm pretty sure the other teams would object to a two-meter tall player with centuries of military training who can shoot fire, read the opposing team's minds, and see the future, among other things."

"You overstate my abilities somewhat," said Thoth. "I am rather poor with fire. Nor am I excellent at reading the future. In any case, I would be happy to join you in combat."

"It's a game," Derik went on, ignoring her, "and there are rules. You play in a pitch-dark corridor and hit a light-up ball back and forth until one team can't continue. No magic or powers, no weapons but padded bats."

Gall grinned. "Just to the point where they cry for mercy. If they're still conscious."

"But it isn't supposed to be a brawl, which you always 'forget'." He looked up at Thoth. "I'm not saying you wouldn't be an asset, but someone has to worry about safety! And that's for our own team, too. It all gets very mixed up in the dark. If I had your word it would be all right, perhaps...?"

Meanwhile...

Jenni blinked, not particularly thrilled at being balked twice in one evening, but shook it off with a subtle shift of posture. "Oh, that's good," she said. "Go on, then." She indicated that Ix should proceed with her healing. As long as it got done, she supposed.

Derik swung around to glare at Tom. "Don't be sorry." He sneered the word. "Nobody be sorry for me."

"I'm not!" Gall chirped.

Jenni shot her an angry look, but this went ignored.

"Thank you," Derik said profoundly, flourishing an arm in imitation of a bow to his partner. "That's what I like about you. You're rude, and annoying, and selfish—but you're not sorry. And you brought me food. ... What is this?" He held up something that looked like a cocktail wiener, but its sauce had somehow been turned a noxious shade of green.

"Um, I think the sign said 'Alien Guts'? Gimme one." The two of them bent over the plate.

Jenni shook her head, gave a sniff to clear her sinuses, and took a step toward Tom and Thoth. She couldn't help but observe the Astartes' withdrawn silence, and the nurse knew trauma when she saw it. Her work was never done. "Hey, big fella." She gently rapped a knuckle against the back of his armored hand. "You want a turn in the sharing circle?"

"Alright, then. I won't be sorry." He shrugged, and turned to Thoth. "Do you want to tell her?"

Thoth shrugged. "She will find out sooner or later if she really wants to, anyways." He turned to the nurse. "The fifteenth legion's story is not a happy one, and our doom was neither quick nor painless. We were accused of sorcery, the Wolves sent to our world to bring us back. As to whether the judgement were just... that is not for me to say."

"The orders were changed, telling the Wolves to destroy us. Our own primarch found the judgement just. He did not inform us of what was coming, lowered our defenses." He looked down again. "We tried to fight back. At first, it went well. But they had brought the Sisters of Silence with them. And as the battle wore one... more and more of my brothers succumbed to our defects."

"They called it the flesh-change. A menace accentuated by our psychic talents. Those who succumbed became... something I'd rather not think about. Death was preferable. And as our city burned and our brethren and citizens lay slaughtered in the streets... our primarch made a pact to save us. A pact that gave us our lives, and but cost us our pride and our freedom. We were taken to a new world, our powers amplified - and we had become servants of the Architect of Fate, choice or no."

Thoth looked down. "As the flesh-change grew worse... a group of us made an attempt to fix it. They failed, the ritual going horrifyingly awry. Most of our number were turned to dust, their souls fractured and trapped within their armor, becoming little more than mindless automatons, doomed to eternal torment." He looked back up, still seemingly distant. "I saw my brothers fall around me, cursed to a fate worse than death. A fate I myself narrowly escaped. That is what happened to me."

The lament was Celtic in flavor, each high, mournful note unspooling with aching slowness from the throat of the man singing:

The tears I feel today
I’ll wait to shed tomorrow,
Though I’ll not sleep this night
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight;
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to speak
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My tongue cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
||: I’ll keep my tears till later;
But my grief will never go. :||

Derik could rarely bring himself to sing anymore, but he still had a clear, near-perfect upper register. Even off-kilter as he was now, with his sound further disturbed by the ambient Halloween music in the room, it was an uncommon soul that could fail to be moved by it. Even Gall listened quietly, her expression slack.

"For your brothers," said Derik. "For Skepnadth. And for us." He looked around and chuckled. "Normally someone would offer a toast at this point, but I'm already toasted!"

Gall rewarded him for the terrible joke with a punch on the shoulder. "You maniac. Eat your, uh, I think that blob thing is 'Fried Ecto Cooler'."

For the moment, Jenni stood quietly, contemplating.

(( "Song for Petiron," from the Pern album Sunset's Gold. Derik may have taken it just a hair faster than the recording. Oh, and yes, fried Ecto Cooler is a real thing. Don't ask me how, but I heard of it on Brad Tries at some point.

Gall broke hers open and made a revolted face at the gooey, neon green innards. "Ugh, it looks like Fellrazer's poop."

Her being her, she didn't hesitate to put it in her mouth anyway. Derik was right behind her, and they reacted with near-identical sour faces.

"It's so sweet... gack." Derik coughed on the acidic lime fumes in his throat. "Why?"

Gall laughed. "Oh, gods, what is this even supposed to be? It's so gross! Forget what I said earlier; you have to try this." She thrust a greenish fritter at Tom.

Despite being momentarily distracted by the others' antics, Jenni had kept most of her attention on Thoth, and now she spoke up. "Do you still worry about... the flesh-change?" It was a term she was uncomfortable having on her tongue, evoking nightmarish Akira-esque images even without context. She knew the power of names, and agreed that this was one best invoked as little as possible. Yet she had to ask. "Are you afraid that could still happen to you?" This was a two-pronged concern: one for the man himself, one for everyone around him.

A blond boy dressed as a dragon rider, accompanied by a blue fire-lizard perched on his shoulder, approached, munching on one of the same green fritters. "This is supposed to be a party, not a therapy session." Alex shoved the rest of the pastry in his mouth, cheeks bulging, and he held up his fingers for Zeke to lick.

"Okay, good," she said. "There might have been something I could do, but the red tape alone would've been a challenge."

When Alex arrived, Derik took one look at him and froze in place like a hunted animal. His mood had been lightened somewhat by the cleansing act of commiserating with a brother-in-spirit, but it abruptly blackened. He said nothing.

Jenni smiled widely despite herself and held out her forearm so the little blue could perch. "Not eating too much junk tonight, I hope?" She rubbed his eye-ridges with one finger and let him feel her affection.

Following the fire-lizard's gaze, her heart sank. "Leave him be, little one," she murmured, and turned to put her body in their line of sight.

"It's fine," Derik growled, turning away himself and handing the half-full plate of snacks off to Gall. "'S time I left anyway—it's a party, after all. I've dragged it down long enough." He pushed himself up with one hand on the back of the chair, and it was a good thing, too, because he swayed on his feet and nearly collapsed as it was.

(( Aaand there's the dark side that's always lurking! Don't worry, I'm not gonna let any actual violence happen in this RP. If Derik's new bro wanted to intervene, though, he'd probably appreciate it later. (Or, when my turn comes around again, Gall will backpedal herself out of trouble, or Jenni will jump in. Or whatever!)

(( Oh, and Ix, let me know if I went too far with Zeke; I can always redo it. ))

Alex stepped forward, putting a hesitant hand on Derik's shoulder. "I mean, he was the runt of his litter. Hatching? Thing?" He swallowed; though he was tall, both Derik and Gall were obviously stronger than he was, and he didn't want to get between them if they started trading blows.

((You're fine! Zeke's a pretty playful and friendly little guy. He'll give anyone the time of day if they give him scritchies.))

At Alex's touch, Derik jerked and likely would have lashed out at the boy whose every aspect seemed calculated to mock him, but then Thoth was at his back, deep voice rumbling in his ears and his bones. He went still.

Gall took the opportunity to wrench his hand away and step back, glaring. "Do that to me again and I will kick your Spandexed butt, got it?"

Derik shuddered, his muscles shedding their combative tension, and straightened up—well, more or less. He reeled backward, and was rather grateful for support at that moment. "I—I apologize, everyone. I shouldn't—it's not his fault." He gestured vaguely at Alex. "It's not your fault." And at Gall. "Most of all, not the little cousin's fault. I'm sorry." He hid his face behind one hand.

Surprised and relieved not to be the one controlling the situation for a change, Jenni had done her best to keep Zeke calm throughout. Now she felt up for responding to Tom's interest. "He's a Pernese fire-lizard," she explained. "Genetic forebears of the dragons. Zeke's two, so he's fully mature, or just about."

You're getting the story, because I want to see how Derik will tell it. He's a Harper at heart, and inclined to ramble in his current state, so it's gonna take time. But don't worry, I'm not quitting. {= )

Alex made a face. "Stinks up my RC to high heaven. It's awful. I give him bits of my own food as a treat, sometimes." He tickled Zeke's eyebrow ridges, and the blue crooned. "They nest near the beach in their home continuum, so lots of fish. I can't stand the stuff, personally."

"Oh, all right." With a sigh of capitulation, Derik sank down onto the seat again. He glanced at Alex, but since he'd gone off in conversation with Tom, there wasn't much point in saying anything to him. It was fine. Fine. He took off his green domino mask and rubbed his face, particularly the scarred right side. With the mask off, it was easier to distinguish the blind milky-blue eye from the functioning hazel one, slightly bloodshot. "My tale, my tale," he muttered to himself. "Does it start at the beginning, or the end? There are things I remember that never happened, but they did; things that weren't true, but are. Jenni—" he turned toward her "—how should I start it?"

"You could start when we met, I think," she said, drifting closer. Having been there, she had never heard him speak fully of his recruitment, and she was curious to hear his account.

He nodded. "Yes. Yes, that's fine." He looked up, not at anyone in particular, but into the distance of remembrance. "It was the Hatching. Alanna and I were on the hot sands with Yunith and my Skepnadth, watching over the eggs. It was a proud clutch! But they always were—with such parents, how could they be anything but? What a pair! Yunith, living statue of pure gold; Skepnadth, night-black marbled with bronze. Which he shouldn't have been." Derik's brow creased. "There are five colors, not... but..." He shook his head. "But there we were. There was a queen egg, even though all the Weyrs had a full complement, and a particularly large one at that. At the time my only concern was finding a match for her, but Alanna had everything well in hand—she usually did." His mouth twisted with bitterness. "I remember holding her that day... tall, beautiful, proud. Her hand on my shoulder." He reached up to touch the spot. "She was mine. I loved her. Nothing else mattered." He lapsed into silence.

"That was when I saw you," Jenni put in. "I was there in the viewing gallery with Agents Supernumerary and Ilraen. Oh, I was so angry!"

"Yes, and you made a commotion. I remember that. Everyone looked, and I saw three harpers I didn't know, but I thought nothing of it. I thought nothing much of anything. The four new candidates had come up to us, bowing quite prettily to the sires of the clutch, and Alanna kept the girls near us, near the queen egg. These four had been Searched at the last moment by Yunith herself, a thing unprecedented in the history of Pern. Travelers from another world—but it wasn't the first time we'd had such."

Jenni explained, "It was a crossover with Harry Potter. He's talking about Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny; they'd transported themselves over in a magical accident. Sirius Black and an OC called Roma Lupin were already there. Sirius got there after falling through the Veil. I still have no idea how Roma was supposed to have arrived. They'd both Impressed somehow, even though Sirius at least must have been too old." She shook her head, still irritated by the idiocy of that fic.

"The four newcomers shortly did, too," Derik went on. "That's too much to tell, but suffice to say I now know it was utter nonsense, every moment of it. I mean," he chuckled, "honestly, the rattlesnake-hide bronze. We don't have rattlesnakes on Pern! And there I stood, smiling like an idiot, at least until the gold egg hatched out a little green-gold sport from one end. That was a shocker even then. But Alanna felt she might clutch like a gold, so we decided to train her up as a junior queen, and all was well again. The egg hatched a proper gold from the other half—I say proper, though she wasn't really. Shards, looking back on it I feel like such a benighted fool." He leaned back and sank down in the chair, looking away. "I had two eyes then—how could I not have seen it was all wrong? I was a harper, I knew all the teaching ballads, I—"

"Derik, hush," Jenni said gently. "You were never at fault. That was why I had to get you out of there."

He thought a moment, then picked up the narrative again. "Before the Hatching Feast, Skepnadth and I decided to look in on Yunith, make sure she'd eaten and was resting well. A queen doesn't leave her clutch when it's near to hatching, so she fasts until it's over," he explained. "She had returned to her weyr, and Skepnadth went up ahead of me. He told me two strangers was there, bothering her. I came up the stairs in a hurry, and there was this woman." He indicated Jenni. "Something was odd about her, but neither of us could place it. We went down to the Bowl to avoid disturbing the dragons any further, and she opened my eyes. She reminded me of everything I should have known, but couldn't think of for the fog in my head. She told me what was really happening. Mary Sues—a blight on the universe worse than Thread. Eaters of living ideas, was that what you said?"

"I was one of those," Derik said. "An ornament. An affectation. Not even my name and face were my own!" He leveled a resentful look at Jenni. "You didn't care about me for myself—you cared about him."

She flushed guiltily. "To begin with, maybe. But it was a dragonman I had to win over, not a Phantom. Erik would have been easier to convince."

"I'm not him. I'm not, I'm not."

"I know, hon. We all know."

"Well, mostly," Gall said dubiously. She'd never heard the whole story, either, so she'd hung around to listen.

Jenni shot her a repressive look.

"You haven't seen what I've seen," the Viking protested, but she shut up again.

"The point is," Derik cut back in, raising his voice somewhat more than necessary, "my whole life was a lie, and my only choices were to stay an ignorant thrall and die, or to give up everything I thought I knew and live to find some other purpose for myself and my dragon. I chose the latter, because it was my duty to Pern. Because a dragonman must fly when Threads are in the sky. So I said I would help save Pern from Alanna and the rest." His tone was agitated, self-mocking. "So that's what I set out to do. I went to the Hatching Feast, like I was supposed to. I sat beside her, and I watched, and I waited. The plan was—ah, it went so wrong." He hunched forward, covering his face with both hands. "It never should have come to dragons fighting dragons, but Alanna—Yunith—they went wild. I tried to stop it, we both did." His shoulders shuddered. "He was so brave. My fine bronze. And she killed him. Yunith, his mate, attacked him like a wild feline.

"Ilraen—Ilraen had become a gold dragon himself to keep the Weyr under control, that was the plan, but he couldn't control the morph quickly enough. You can't have a dragon without a rider, it's not possible. He tried to save Skepnadth, but by the time he killed Yunith and the rest of the Sues were under control, it was too late. At least... at least I got to say good-bye before he went between."

(( Stopping there, though it's not quite the end of the story of how Derik became Derik, because good lord that's a long post already, it's taken all day because I actually had work to do at work today (go figure), and I don't have much more time before I have to leave for home. And, well, Derik needs a minute, too.

(( I hope it makes sense, but not so much sense that nobody feels like asking questions about the weirder bits. {= ) ))

Gall grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "get a room," though not so loud that she thought anyone would notice. She thought about taking off in Alex's wake, but didn't. She was learning things. Uncomfortable, mushy things, but things might be worth knowing anyway.

Jenni wanted to say something to Alex, but what was she going to say? It was all right? It wasn't. She decided to catch up with him another time and make sure he was okay. For now, she did her best to pretend she wasn't quietly weeping, and tilted her head inquisitively at Tom.

Well, for a certain definition of wandered; she was skirting the outside edge of the group, hoping to stay out of everyone's way, but she froze, ears pricked when she heard Derik mention losing an eye twice.

He took in the cape, the rose, the white half-mask on the wrong side. For a moment, his frazzled limbic system tried to react in every conceivable way at once, and he sat still with his face contorting in a muddle of expressions. Then he gave in to the absurdity of his existence and laughed. It went on for a while, strident and hair-raising, and abruptly trailed off into a rich chuckle. "Oh, this is perfect! An admirer of Himself! Come on, then, you'll want to hear this, too." He waved her into the circle.

(( Re. "get a room," Gall's just bitter because the attractive guys are paying more attention to each other than to her. I think what's really happening sounds something like this. And it's a beautiful thing. I've never written a bromance before. ˆ_ˆ ))

Derik grinned. It was always a disturbing expression on his face at the best of times, distorted as his mouth was on one side, and his tear-damp, splotchy cheeks and bloodshot eyes didn't help. Nor did the fact that what he felt wasn't happiness, but a fatalistic sense of irony. "I was just about to finish the story of my recruitment," he said. "I was going to skip a certain part, but now I simply can't."

He cleared his throat, which was starting to feel a little dry with all this talking, and began. "Jenni tells me I lay in a catatonic state for roughly a month after she brought me back here, willing myself to die. You see I didn't manage it, even though I didn't have quite the best of care. Headquarters was in the midst of a quarantine thanks to an epidemic of macroviruses, and FicPsych's resources were stretched thin. They had to consolidate their patients in order to protect them. Am I telling it true?" he asked, checking with the nurse.

She nodded, keeping a wary eye on him and Ix. "True. And my bosses still wouldn't let me near you most of the time." She would always resent that, even if there were good reasons for it.

"So it was," Derik went on, "that I was finally roused thanks to the intervention of my erstwhile roommate. The first thing I remember clearly is looking up into the yellow eyes of a man in a full black mask. My ontological progenitor—and yours for the night," he added to Ix, grinning some more. "Erik. The Phantom of the Opera!"

The Halloween soundtrack obligingly filled the pregnant pause with a roll of thunder and some eerie organ music.

Gall flinched and looked around in irritation and real unease. "Jeez, every time!"

Jenni just facepalmed.

"Oh, he had words for me!" Derik chuckled. "Called me 'impostor', accused me of trying to usurp his identity despite not knowing pain as he did. Hah! That made me angry. I felt something for the first time in weeks, and it was anger. I set him straight, and I invited him to kill me as he'd threatened to do. We understood each other then, a pair of scarred, broken souls, alike but unlike, and the bastard let me live. He left, but not before telling me I had a chance to make a new life for myself, and that I'd be a fool not to take it. If you've never heard his voice, you don't know what it's like, but you can't shut it out. It invades you, it gets its hooks in your brain. That voice haunts me. Sometimes it sounds a lot like my own. One more form of torment I can't seem to escape." He glanced at Ix then, but just as quickly looked away again.

Ix laughed nervously, feeling sweat drip down inside her mask, tickling her cheek. Her face twitched, and she delicately reached inside with a finger to scratch at the irritation, only to yelp when the motion proved enough to dislodge the sticking charm she'd used to hold it in place; the mask fell to the ground and cracked in two.

She looked up at everyone else and blanched, one hand scrabbling for the pieces while the other came up to cover her face. "I, um, um, that's, um, FicPsych, yes, that makes sense, that, um—"

Derik shook his head as though unsure if he were seeing clearly. Alas, his vision was not the problem. A bit of his right brain had been kicking him for the last few minutes, and he finally understood why. He knew this person. They just hadn't met in person before. She was shy, or so he'd been led to believe.

A random stranger turning up in a Phantom mask? Fine. The universe hated him. Hilarious.

Someone he knew and aspired to mentor, turning up in a Phantom mask, and seeing him like this? He wasn't sure if he felt more betrayed or more ashamed.

He tried vainly to sit up straighter and school his affect to respectability, but he couldn't quite keep a petulant note of accusation from his voice: "Ix? What are you doing here?" He wondered if another drink would be entirely out of the question.

(( Re. bromance, because I forgot to respond to that earlier and I don't want to leave Thoth out entirely while these two have a moment: There are probably as many definitions of bromance as the number of people you ask, but I think it's any platonic yet very close relationship between two guys? It might apply more to comedy situations where the relationship is teased as being not platonic, like JD and Turk on Scrubs, or Shawn and Gus on Psych, but I dunno.

(( Any way you slice it, I'm digging the idea of Derik and Agent!Thoth bonding and being friends. The parallels between them are weird, unexpected, and cool. I hope it survives sobriety. {= ) ))

Ix finally managed to snatch up the pieces of the mask and repair them with her wand, quickly shoving it back onto her very red face. "Charlotte—my partner—she wanted to come a-and she thought this would be a good costume for me—I didn't realize, I, I—" She realized she was starting to hyperventilate and forced herself to take several deep breaths. "I'm sorry."

Shame had won out. He raked his fingers up through his hair, which had been gelled down for the occasion, and thus he succeeded only in making himself look even more disheveled. "I am being very self-indulgent, Ix," he said with the profound solemnity of the very drunk. "Very selfish. I—I didn't want you to know me like this." He fidgeted, growing agitated again, and mumbled: "I should, um... I need the necessary." He got to his feet, swayed, and put out a forbidding arm. "Nobody help me. I'll go. You stay." He staggered off into the crowd.

Gall looked around, shrugged, and took Derik's chair. She leaned forward and looked up challengingly up at Ix. "So how do you know my partner?"

(( Well, it had to happen at some point after seven drinks. Honestly, now that we've started this scenario, I'm struggling to know what to do with it. So, buying Derik some time to flip into a more conducive mood. If you don't like the weather, just wait five minutes! ))

"I, erm..." She took a deep breath—and promptly looked back down at the floor. "Messaged him asking how he dealt with people staring," she mumbled. "At the, at, at the scars." The last word was whispered in shame.

Theo said as he walked up to Thoth, giving the Space Marine a once over. "I could have sworn that that's the colour of a Space Wolf though. Kudos to you for giving it a go."

For his part Theo was dressed up in black trouser, with a red t-shirt that was covered by a black coat with red lining inside, black and red gloves covered both of his hands while an ornate white and red mask covered his eyes. "Although I warn you, this stupid mask gives me less than ideal vision."

"You're one to talk about less than ideal vision" Cinnabar said as she pushed through to where her partner was standing, she was wearing ornate red, black and gold robes with a heavy golden helmet on her head, rather thin eye-slots the only opening in it, meaning she had to remove it every time she wanted to eat or drink. "I still don't know how you convinced me to wear all of this."

((Thoth's... predicament made me laugh a lot, so that kudos is genuine.
Theo is meant to be: http://rwby.wikia.com/wiki/Adam_Taurus
Cinnabar is meant to be: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Bestia
I just had to pick really hard to describe costumes didn't I?))

Theo asked, aware he'd probably butchered how the drink was meant to be said. "It sounds like a decent drink for this competition. Regular ale may be good enough for one like you," he tilted his head towards Tom, "but I've got a few tricks of my own up my sleeve."

said Tom. "A full glass of Mjød can kill the average man. The stuff is strong enough to get Space Marines drunk: That's why Thoth here drinks it. Which means the toxins in it are potent enough to shut down or override an organ specifically designed to prevent such toxins from having an effect."

Thoth turned to Tom. "You've drunken it before..."

Tom glared. "I've had sips. I had half a glass once and the next thing I knew it was three days later and I was in the medbay being fed Klatchian Coffee." He shrugged. "But you're welcome to try if you've got an exceptionally high tolerance."

A woman bounded up to the armored giant and grinned up at him. It was a long way up: although the Thanagarian hawk helm she wore granted her an extra few inches, in reality she was all of 5'4". But she wasn't in the habit of letting petty things like reality slow her down. "I like your style, brother," she remarked. "You look like you could pose a challenge. I'm so in. And—" She turned around and shouted. "Derik! Come on!"

A Green Lantern with lacy scars extending above and below his domino mask on the right side pushed his way over and eyed the gathering skeptically. By the looks of the glass in his hand, he was already a leg up on thematic pumpkin spice ale. "This is a bad idea."

"He's in, too," Gall chirruped sweetly. "You wouldn't believe the way this man can drink when he's got a mind."

(( I don't know how much time I'll have to participate, but if I drop out at some point, you may assume that Normal Humans Derik and Gall put up a valiant fight, but have absolutely zero chance of actually winning, handicap or no. Oh, and Gall is probably gonna hit on Thoth a bit, cuz Viking, and I'm sure he'll appreciate that just so much. g ))

He polished off the last mouthful of his pumpkin ale. "I've already handicapped myself. Against most people, I'd say that was fair, but..." He eyeballed Thoth and shrugged. "I suppose a man must sometimes fight a losing battle if only to say he fought." He stuck out his free hand to Tom. "Derik, by the way. My partner is Gall. Our response center is number 1110. If we both pass out, please make sure we get back there."

Gall rolled her eyes. "Ugh, defeatist. Haven't you ever heard the expression 'the bigger they are, the harder they fall'?"

(( Tom and/or Thoth may feel free to assume that Gall is merely stupid, not suicidal, and hand her something normal. But I'm perfectly willing to send her to Medical to get her stomach pumped, too. I recently read Prospero Burns; I know what toxic jet fuel the Vlka Fenryka drink. {= D ))

"'s your funeral. Take it in sips and you just might make it. Don't gulp, and don't get cocky. You're pressuring your defects here - breaking down is inevitable." He grinned. "Anyways, Thoth?"

Tom produced two glasses, and Thoth, giving a glare that could cut stone to Gall, poured some of the liquid into each. "I feel that you would work well with those I came dressed as. A pity then: I am not them. However, the necessity of Bleeproducts in our line of work means that I have learned to drink like them." He casually took a glass and quickly downed it.

((You've read Prospero Burns? I've been meaning to get to that. Newbie that I am, I've not read many of the novels yet. I started with A Thousand Sons (for reasons that should be obvious), and I was working my way through the Ahriman books when Real Life happened. Crimson King is sitting on my floor right now.

What? I like to be informed about my faction! :-D. It helps that McNeil is pretty good usually from what I can tell, and that John French nailed everything that makes Ahriman great - a fact he managed to convince me of over the course of a two page introduction. I suppose I'll see if his writing can match.))

((And yes, Gavin - that is, Miracle of Sound: he's a one-man band - is awesome. Tom agrees with this statement. Anyone up for Spot The Reference? :-D))

She held up her glass and swirled the dark, viscous fluid—more like petroleum or blood than beer or ale—around the bottom. The substance had a strong, chemical reek that made her cough, but she turned the reaction into a noise of derision. "You call this muck mead, do you? When this is over, I'll introduce you to the real thing."

"Gall..." Derik's sense of caution broke through his anger. "Maybe you shouldn't—"

"Shut up, Derik," she snapped. She was committed, and there was no backing out now. With a deep breath to fortify herself, she locked eyes with Thoth and knocked back the whole shot.

It was fortunate that HQ was governed primarily by the Laws of Narrative Comedy, and by that token, what happened next was completely predictable: Gall shuddered and tried valiantly to hold on, but her stomach was smarter than she was. She convulsed, retched, and spewed the noxious brew right back up again, saving herself from committing suicide by stupidity. It was quite unfortunate to be standing in front of her.

Derik shook his head and patted her on the back while she hacked up the last drops of mjød. "On second thought, some fights aren't worth fighting. I'll stick to pumpkin spice ale."

(( If the Comedic Laws are in full force, Thoth will need to go clean his armor, but that's up to your discretion. {= D

(( And yes, I've read approximately two and a half Horus Heresy books now: Prospero Burns, A Thousand Sons, and the first few short stories in Tales of Heresy. I'm an extreme noob, but Phobos has been reading these books for a while now, and he finally talked me into starting. I'm afraid we're a Wolves household through and through, but I do feel sorry for Magnus and the Thousand Sons.

(( As for Ahriman, I don't get him. Half the time I thought he was the one with the most common sense of the lot, but the other half he was making the same dumb mistakes as everyone else, and from the fanart I've looked at, he seems to go full-on Dark Lord down the line. What on earth made him think making the same mistakes as Magnus was a good idea when he'd lived through the consequences, eh? ))

"It's ale, you know. Not mead. Not that it makes much of a difference with that stuff. Just be glad you hacked it up: I don't have any Klatchian Coffee handy." He produced some rags. "That's for your mouth. Here, Thoth, take a few to wipe off your armor with. And don't try to burn it off or anything: the smell will get everwhere."

He turned to Derik. "Sorry about that. Anyways, I think I saw some of the spice ale at the table..." He went off and grabbed a glass. "There you go."

Thoth frowned at Gall. "That was... an interesting decision." He had managed to wipe most of the ale off of his armor... before burning the rest. Thankfully, the smell was minimal.

((The Wolves ARE cool. But I'll always come down on the Sons side of that particular debate. Besides, I don't seem to like The Wolves as much as everybody else...))

((Now Ahriman... Ahriman is an interesting case. He's actually self-conscious enough to recognize his flaws a good deal of the time, and he's reasonably sensable, but he ultimately has the same flaws as the rest of his legion. Primarily, arrogance.

As for going full dark lord... he actually doesn't. Which is one of the cool things about him. Heck, he has no particular desire to serve Chaos at all (a trait he shares with several other named characters most people barely discuss). After the Rubric (I assume you know what happened with the Rubric), he was... distraught. And so he dedicated himself to reversing its effects. Imagine Edward Elric with absolutely no limits, nothing he won't do, and a devotion to his goal that is arguably even more fanatical. THAT is Ahriman, or at least the closest approximation I can give with a simple analogy.

DISCLAIMER: Ahriman is probably one of my favorite characters in all of 40k. Take that as you will.)

She took off her hawk helm, revealing a head of dark, wiry red hair plaited against her scalp, and mopped off her face. To Thoth's comment, she replied hoarsely between heavy breaths: "I'm Gall Knutson, Fellrazer's rider, of the Hairy Hooligan tribe. 'Interesting' is what we do. If by 'interesting' you mean brave, stubborn, and just a little bit insane." She grinned—no hard feelings. As far as she was concerned, anyone who could outdrink or outfight the likes of herself was to be admired. "The hell are you made of, jötunn?"

Derik, meanwhile, sank his ale in a few steady gulps and slammed the glass down on a nearby table. "One. And, in good news, I think I just spied Nurse Robinson as the spitting image of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Maria Hill. I think she keeps Purple Stuff handy for occasions like this."

(( I didn't know about the Rubric, but I looked it up, so now I sorta do. Yikes!

(( Can't speak for everyone else, but I like the Wolves because a: I like Vikings and Viking analogues in general, and b: I have a soft spot for big, hairy, unpretentious warrior-types. The Wolves are bloody awesome at what they do, but they know their place, and their limits, and there's a lot of heart under all the gruff, too. All the Legions Astartes have that warrior-brother thing going on, it seems, but I suspect the Wolves take that to a relatively high level what with the wolf traits making them a pack, too. I 'unno, but they're not what I expected from Space Marines going in, and I like it.

(( The Thousand Sons, on the other hand, are nice enough guys, and pretty cool, but make me want to pull my hair out with frustration at their basic lack of common sense. That said, I don't think what happened to them was really their fault. I blame the Emperor for trying to make a bunch of addicts quit cold-turkey and getting mad when, shockingly, it didn't work. {= P ))

He handed one to Thoth - who once again downed it - and a considerably less horrific one to Derik.

Thoth nodded to Gall. "I am Thoth, of the XVth legion Astartes, otherwise known as the Thousand Sons. I am - or was - the unwilling servant of the Architect of Fate, and have my origins in the Warhammer 40k continuum. My partner is Tom Andrews."

Tom bowed. "Tom Andrews, computational demonologist, at your service. I'd tell you where I'm from, but then my brain would fry. It seems there was only so much DoSAT could do about that."

((If you're curious, Tom's from the Laundry continuum. So he's not exaggerating: if he tells you where he's from or where he worked or anything of that sort, he'll probably start smoking. DoSAT loosened it a bit, but they could only do so much.))

((I can appreciate the Wolves for similar reasons - Vikings are cool, and I do have that same soft spot. And they're a good legion. But the Sons... ah, there's just a bit too much of the Sons in me for me to prefer anyone else. Because I want to know the universe, to understand it. And if I am to be guilty of any crime, I want it to be the pursuit of knowledge. I also share some of their flaws... :-(

As for it not being their fault... I kind of disagree. But I'm not going to get into the reasons why, because it would take ages and I'm typing this on my phone. But I also have a soft spot for villains who are doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. And many of the Sons fit that to a T, especially Ahriman.))

Gall shook her head impatiently. "I didn't ask for your life story, man, I asked what you're made of that you can drink that rotgut. I've never felt a burn like that, and I ate some of Fellrazer's Nightmare Gel on a dare once. Does being a Fifteenth Ass-whatsit do that for you?"

Derik, who knew that his partner's hearing comprehension was excellent, cuffed the back of her head. "That's not what he said and you know it."

(( The Laundry Files looks interesting; I'll have to check that out sometime. And I'm running out the door, so short response here; sorry! ))

Thoth took the next one just as easily as the first two: the glasses weren't really that big, all things considered. "Three, I believe."

He turned to Gall. "I am," he said, "One of the Adeptus Astartes, the Angels of Death. Sometimes known as Space Marines. When I was a boy, I was selected as a candidate, tried, and eventually inducted into the ranks of the Thousand Sons. I was upgraded, artificial organs inserted into my body, its chemistry altered, my mind conditioned. All to transform me into one of the most fierce warriors mankind has ever known."

He sighed. "One of the side effects of the process is that this rotgut, as you call it, is one of the few things capable of actually getting me drunk, or getting any sort of toxin into my blood: On missions, I carry an alcohol-substitute version with Bleeprin inside it. It is the only way that the Bleep works on me."

((Sorry... I can be a bit longwinded. Thankfully, I think it fits the character here...))

"This sounds like one of those stories where the gods offer you something awesome, but then screw you when your back's turned," she said, looking Thoth up and down. "See, the way I figure, there's three things that make life worth living, and that's drinking, fighting, and fu—"

Derik finished his third drink and let off a resonant belch. He didn't look sorry about it, either.

Gall went on: "So what I'm wondering is, to be the best at one, did you have to give up both the other two?"

(( This is something I wonder about myself. As far as I can tell, the answer is yes? Which I reckon is probably for the best, all things considered!

(( I wondered whether Bleeprin would work on these guys, too, but you answered that for me. My guess was that Bleeprin works because you want it to anyway, so as long as he thinks it works, it does. Bleepmjød is good, too. ))

"Thanks to mjød, we did not have to give up two of them," he said. "Not that I ever drank anything but wine before coming here. It was still a worthwhile trade." Thoth's cheeks were slightly redder, but other than that, he seemed to be entirely functional.

"As for the third... the hypno-doctrination took care of that. The requisite equipment is still there, but the urges have been... largely repressed. They no longer serve any function."

((Bleeprin would not work on Space Marines for the same reasons alcohol doesn't. It's a toxin, and most toxins don't work properly on Space Marines.

Fun fact: most Space Marines have variable skin tone, the two exceptions of the original 20 18 legions being the Raven Guard and the Salamanders. So if a fic ever talks about a Space Marine with a tan on an ice world, it's technically a minor canon violation. Though I usually don't care, unless the fic has other problems, like, to pick a COMPLETELY RANDOM example, the Sons and the Wolves doing entirely the wrong sort of unspeakable things to one another (No, I'm not still upset about that fic, why do you ask?).

If you want to know more about Astartes biology, 1d4's page is my preferred resource (standard disclaimer, 1d4chan is the wiki of /tg/, and while /tg/ is among the most decent 4chan boards, it is still a 4chan board. Expect gratuitous swearing and occaisional NSFW bits around the site, as well as some FANTASTIC bits of fanfic).))

((As for Astartes sexuality... hoo boy. This is where we run straight in to GW's "Assassin's Order" canon policy ("everything is canon, nothing is true"). BL writers (who I tend to favor over codices for lore, because it seems like the good ones care a lot more) seem to be split on how effective hypo-doctrination IS. Because if it was as effective as the game says it is, things would be boring. So it's commonly agreed that Space Marines CAN, for example, feel fear (contrary to game fluff) - it's just repressed. But sexual desire... well, Emperor's Children, to get the elephant in the room out of the way, but other than that, the jury's out on whether it's entirely nonexistant or merely deeply repressed. Or even if the requisite equipment can function.

The interpretation Mikel and I subscribe to is that it is there, and the equipment does more or less function (no clue if conception's possible: I'd say no), but it is deeply repressed. This is substantiated by several novels, most notably the Ragnar Blackmane series that serves as the mainline of Space Wolf novels (which I should REALLY read at some point). OTOH, there's also evidence to contrary. So...))

He, too, was sporting a flush by now, which made the pale scars on his right cheek stand out even more. He shook his head and chuckled at his partner's aghast expression. "It isn't as though it could have worked out either way, you know." He held up one hand at Gall's head-height, then raised his arm as far as it would go to indicate Thoth's.

"Oh yeah?" Gall stuck out her right arm. On her wrist, she wore a device that looked a bit like a watch, but had a curious ring around the outside of the face.

Derik blinked, then groaned in comprehension and checked himself out of explaining by finally drinking his fourth ale.

"See," said Gall, "I got this handy bit of tech that lets me shrink my dragon so he fits in the RC. But it works the other way, too." She waggled her eyebrows. "So, jötunn, if you ever wanna get un-repressed, I'm your girl."

"I'll have the next drink quickly, please," Derik said grimly to Tom. He cast Thoth a baleful look through his one functioning eye. "You don't agree with her, though, do you? Those things are not what makes life worthwhile. It's duty, loyalty, joy... and if all else fails, just duty."

(( I haven't settled on what sort of drunk I think Derik is, but it looks like "voluble" is gonna be part of it. {= P

(( But uh, yeah, I started off thinking Gall was more or less just being ridiculous for the sake of riling people up (not that she was succeeding; Thoth seems to be a rather phlegmatic sort)—but then I remembered Fellrazer's collar and realized it's actually plausible from her end. {X D She's still mostly playing, but what with all the most powerful guys in HtTYD!Viking culture being ridiculously huge, there's a little part of her brain going "just imagine the status that would come from pairing with a guy like this!" and "think of the looks on people's faces if I told them; hilarious!"

(( I'd tend to agree that an Astartes' reproductive capability is probably nuked as a side effect all the physical and chemical processes done to them, if not deliberately. It wouldn't do to have your supersoldiers distracted by family ties, assuming anyone would or could successfully partner with them. Regarding the Emperor's Children, from what Phobos tells me, it's implied that they're into just about everything, and outright stated that the humans with them definitely are, but it's not outright stated about the Astartes, at least not in the books he's read so far. Is it actually spelled out somewhere?

"Yes," said Thoth, softly. "Duty." He downed his drink, with noticeable haste. "Knowledge. Understanding. That is what makes life worth living. There is no higher calling then the persuit of knowledge. If I am to be a criminal, then that is my crime." It appeared he wasn't exactly talking to those around him.

Finally, his eyes focused on Gall. "I have no interest in your offer. And I do not think that you do either. Not for me. For the man whose paint I wear tonight, perhaps."

((Thoth is, I think, a rather solemn drunk...))

((I recall the EC's... tastes being outright stated. If they aren't, they're all but. Then again, a lot of what I read doesn't come from the novels, and GW's canon policy makes things murky at the best of times.

As for supersoldiers not being distracted by family ties... Don't tell The Salamanders, who maintain their families after becoming Astartes, and place a high value on family in general.

The Salamanders are basically the nicest guys in 40k this side of The Lamenters. They also really like fire.))

Though for him it was actually five plus one, and the world was starting to feel decidedly fuzzy around the edges.

Gall folded her arms. "Well, can you put me in touch with that guy, then? Thor's beard, why are all the really buff dudes around here either taken or too messed up to appreciate what's in front of them?" Here she shot a resentful glare at Derik.

He slammed the latest glass down slightly harder than was rational. "You try being enthralled to a Mary Sue and losing everything that mattered, then see how you feel," he growled, then shook himself and turned to the other two. "Sorry. She does this on purpose. No empathy, this one, none at all. Knowledge is good," he went on, "knowledge is vastly preferable to ignorance, but without the wisdom to use it as it ought, that's how we end up in these situations." He waved a hand, indicating Headquarters and everyone in it.

Thoth grabbed the next glass forcefully, pouring it down his throat. "I suppose I could. The next time the chance comes up, I could recruit one of them. And I could introduce you to one of the hypocrites who came down to slaughter my people, destroying my home, murdering countless civilians, helping to consign me and my brothers to the service of a mad god for over 10,000 years." The words came out bitter and forced. His voice lowered as he turned to Derik. "You don't need to tell me about the difference between knowledge and wisdom. The blood upon my hands and the hands of my brothers taught me that well enough."

Faced with drink six plus one and rapidly taking up the previous ones, Derik groggily weighed the merits of his options and decided, based on experience, that he'd reached the limits of his tolerance, so there was no point in risking death on something as stupid as this contest. Instead, he lurched forward and put a clutching hand on Thoth's vambrace. All dragonriders had some latent empathic Talent, and Derik's was enough to widen the scope of his anger to encompass them both.

"I think we're the same," he said. "Or similar. The universe is cruel—it takes everything, and it makes you keep going anyway, even when you're not sure who you are anymore, or what's the point. We should talk... sometime we're not both extremely drunk. Or when I'm not. I don't know about you. Oh, by the way, you win." He nodded solemnly and belched some more. "And I will never drink anything pumpkin spice again, because it is vile when it repeats on you."

He was distracted by the arrival of a newcomer in a dark blue S.H.I.E.L.D. jumpsuit. She'd taken advantage of Tom's slipstream to make her way to them through the crowd. "Is everything all right over here?" she said, taking in the scene with a pair of concerned green eyes. "I thought I heard—oh, Derik. Again?"

"Jenni!" Derik's expression had lit in recognition, but just as quickly collapsed back into the intense concentration it was now taking to string words together. "Thoth. Tom. This is Jenni—Nurse Robinson. She recruited me, but it's not her fault. What happened, it's not her fault. I have given it a lot of thought, and it was the Suvians, not her. She's good. She understands what it's like, and she's the only one who does, because she's been there. Sort of." He looked to Jenni. "You tell him."

Jenni, looking mortified with guilt no matter what Derik said, shook her head. "Derik, why don't you let go of this fellow and come with me for a minute?" She evaluated him again. "... You're clinging for dear life, aren't you? Can you walk on your own?"

"Ah." Derik looked down at himself, considering. "No, I don't think so. Sorry," he said to Thoth, swaying as he tilted his head up.

Jenni sighed and turned to Tom. "Make yourself useful and find a chair, would you?"

(( Long one, sorry. But I'm actually trying not to end the RP just yet, because I'm having fun. {= ) You're doing fine, too. It's a little tricky for me to get a read on what Thoth is feeling based just on his speech, because he's so formal, but that's okay. What does confuse me a bit is that I'd expected a seeker after knowledge to be more curious about people from other worlds, so I was trying to draw him to ask questions about my guys, but perhaps he's disciplined against prying?

(( In any case, I'd like to continue in my efforts to push his buttons for my own (and hopefully your) amusement, so I'm throwing Jenni at him. I don't know how psychic he is without actively trying to be, but if he's got any kind of passive sense of auras or energies or whatnot, he's probably going to notice she's not quite what she appears to be, and since the closest 40K analogue to what she actually is is probably a Warp demon... Well, I'm hoping he notices. {= D But only if it's in character for him, of course. ))

Meanwhile, Thoth fixed the nurse with a level gaze. "You are not an ordinary mortal. Not one who has a gift, as Derik does. Who and what are you?"

At the sound of those words, Tom pulled out his phone, pointing it at Jenni. "Yeah... That's not normal. Nothing OFCUT can recognize, but not normal." He sighed. "I really need to get around to making the OFCUT scanner more useful..."

((It's fine by me. I'm having a lot of fun with this.

And he probably should be asking more questions, but A) he was distracted, and B) my writing isn't always the greatest, so I keep forgetting to have have him ask more questions. But don't worry, he's watching... always watching.))

She held off responding further in favor of pulling Derik's free arm across her shoulders and easing him off Thoth and down onto the chair. He was significantly larger and heavier than her, but she was experienced at this sort of thing. "Come on, hon... there you go. Don't go falling off, all right?"

He nodded, and she briefly cupped the unscarred left side of his face before straightening up and facing the others.

"My name," she said, "is Jennifer Robinson, and I'm a nurse in the Department of Fictional Psychology. That ought to cover the who. As for the what, since you've been so blunt as to ask, I tend to favor the term 'PTB'—Powers That Be, which doesn't have a good singular form. Satisfied?" She folded her arms.

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!" Derik slurred loudly. It was widely held that one was not a proper PPC agent until one could quote Monty Python at the drop of a hat, so he'd learned.

"Thank you, dear." Jenni patted his shoulder.

At that point, Gall returned to the group carrying a plate piled high with snacks, acting like nothing odd had happened. "So I grabbed a bunch of pretzels—oh, hey, Green-eyes—and anything else that looked bready or greasy," she told Derik. "I don't want to drag your unconscious ass back to the RC if I don't have to, so eat." She stuffed a deviled egg into her own mouth and put the plate in his lap. "You lot can get your own," she said to Tom and Thoth, though if they understood her it would be quite the feat.

(( A little background for reference: Jenni is an original character from an original universe. I dunno exactly how she'll look to Tom's device, but her natural ethereal form is sort of a cloud of energy, green-blue-brown-silver. Her physical form is real, but I guess it works similarly to how the Maiar work in Middle-earth, so it's basically like a favorite outfit for her, and she could change it if she wanted to. The only outward sign that she's not a normal human is that her gaze can be penetrating and her eyes can almost seem to flash or glow in intense moments. (A bit Suvian, I know, but it's never overt, and I like the "windows to the soul"/"the eyes don't lie" tropes.) Being an ethereal with a direct connection to the energetic underpinnings of the universe, she's also extremely psychic, but she usually keeps that under tight wraps out of politeness. God, no; phenomenal cosmic power in an itty-bitty living space, yes. To Thoth, I suspect she's an incredibly luminous presence, but tightly controlled rather than flaring out. (Derik of course is barely there at all, being merely a latent Talent in McCaffrey terms, and Gall is dull as lead.) Lemme know if I can clarify anything for you. ))

Thoth looked at Gall and Derik, his brow furrowing slightly. "It occurs to me that I have yet to ask you about your home continuums. I could, of course, extract the information forcibly, but I have been informed that such acts tend to... upset people. I would prefer to be allowed remain here if possible."

((Suffice to say, Thoth... would rather not return home. For obvious reasons.))

"Boy, that's an understatement." She felt it better to leave unsaid that she would personally smack down anyone intruding into her friends' minds on her watch, but she kept a discreet eye on Thoth. She was even in the right costume for defending people from dangerous metahumans and aliens. How convenient.

"Dude, didn't anyone tell you not to say creepy stuff about forcible extraction, either?" Gall asked, more amused than alarmed. "You can just ask. Most people won't explode if they tell you." She gave Tom a flat, skeptical look, letting him know she hadn't forgotten his weird remark, either. "Fer instance, I'm from the How to Train Your Dragon 'verse. Three guesses what we spend most of our time on these days. First two don't count."

"I believe I am aware of that continuum." He turned to Tom. "Did you not read it?"

"I did!" Tom said brightly. "Quite entertaining. A tad disappointed with the film, but it was decent as well." He turned to Derik. "You then? If you're still capable of telling us, that is. I'd tell you mine, but... well, I already mentioned: bound by geas, if I tell you my brain probably starts fizzing." He frowned. "Oh, and don't worry about Thoth. He hasn't tried to read anyone's mind since... well, the point is, don't worry."

((I do hope the idea of a possible mind reader hasn't put you off...))

(( I'm playing one myself, after all. It was a weird thing to say, though. "So, person I just met tonight, tell me about your house. I could just break in and see, of course, but I'm told I shouldn't." Right? {= ) ))

Gall planted a fist on her hip. "I'm from the filmverse, and it's awesome. It's not just one movie, either, it's two going on three, and a show, too!"

"Technically," Derik put in, stumbling over the long word a bit, "you're from a badfic in the filmverse. I should know—I recruited you. And I've regretted it ever since." He was obediently doing his best to consume some ballast to the booze in his stomach, but it was slow going.

"I love you, too," Gall sneered.

"I don't regret it," he rambled on, seemingly oblivious to the contradiction, "but you're a constant reminder, you know. You and Fellrazer." He swung his gaze up to Thoth. "Bleeprin doesn't work for me," he said, "because the memories that hurt so much are the good ones. I can only forget those when I'm unconscious, so that's why I drink like this." He said this matter-of-factly, as though relating a simple universal constant.

Jenni, however, looked pained on his behalf. She squeezed his shoulder again and filled in softly: "Dragonriders of Pern continuum. Know it?"

"Heard of it, vaguely. It's on my to-read list. I mean, from what I can tell, it looks good..."

Thoth looked down at Derik. "I can understand. I too have things that I would... rather forget. I did not become who and what I am with minimal pain. Those are not good memories, but I cannot be rid of them. I would cease to be."

((I think Thoth might start to channel Apophis* when he's drunk. Just a bit. Not a deliberate thing on my part if he is, though...

And yes, it is a weird thing to say. The in-universe reaction was entirely appropriate. I just wanted to check.

*Apophis: the protagonist of Confessions of a Wayward Son, well known goodfic about a Thousand Son who decides that The Imperium was right. Available at https://m.fanfiction.net/s/6226554/1/Confessions-of-a-Wayward-Son))

She glanced down at Derik, who'd sagged in his seat and turned away to stare into the middle distance. Pressing her lips together, she resolved to speak further. "On the other hand, Sybok had a point about dragging it out into the light. What you need to know about Pern," she said, returning to the point, "is that the dragonriders have an indelible telepathic bond with their dragons from the moment of Impression at the dragon's hatching until death. A total sharing of the psyche—a constant companion who knows the depths of your soul and loves you unconditionally. There's nothing else like it. Nothing comes close." Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked them away. "If that bond is broken, it shatters you. Riders rarely survive the death of their dragon, and even if they do, they're never whole again."

(( One of Gall's jobs as the insensitive jerk character is to keep everyone from wallowing in angst too much. {= )

(( DroP IS good, but more for the worldbuilding than the actual writing, in my more informed mature-adult* opinion. Characterization is not McCaffrey's strong suit. But I love Pern, and if you can get past the occasional cringiness of the text, it's an awesome series. ... Well, up until Skies of Pern, anyway.

Silhouetted against the suffused orange light of the pumpkin speaker, his masked eyes scanned the patrons, noting what each of them was wearing, how far they'd gone toward screen accuracy, what they were eating, how they were acting around the other patrons, and a multitude of other details, including where anyone could be hiding, others who kept to the back like himself, where the exits were and possible obstacles in an emergency.

"Hey, Zero," said Jack, clad in the green fatigues and black tactical jacket of Stargate Command, looking over at the Detective's theatrically-caped figure, "Maybe you'd have more fun if you stopped brooding in the corner like a sulky teenager."

"I only want to know who's in attendance and how to get out of here if I have to," said the Detective patiently, "After that, I'll talk to anyone you want me to."

"Or maybe talk to anyone you want to? It's a party-- you've gotta learn when to relax," said Jack, stepping beside him and taking a sip of the ice cold apple cider behind the unmoving Detective.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll join you," he promised, pressing a button at the back of the mask so that the carefully crafted back pieces slid up into the transparent faceplate and cleared the helmet for removal. He messed his now dampened and scruffy hair up off his forehead and offered a small smile of reassurance to his partner.

Jack nodded, and left to go and mingle among the guests, and the Detective replaced his mask behind him.

"We've really got to figure out what we're doing," the Aviator said once she and the Detective were out of earshot. "Because this, this thing we're keeping up? Where we try to not let our partners know what's up but everyone knows? I just wanted to enjoy this party... maybe with you, but not with this hanging over my head."

"Ah," he said at last, realization dawning. It had never occurred to him that someone might not be comfortable leaving things in such a nebulous state, but if something definitive was what the Aviator needed, he thought, he could adapt.

"This thing," he said, realizing that none of what he'd thought had actually traversed the conduit from brain to mouth, "As you so charmingly put it, is whatever either of us need it to be. But since that's usually the grounds for any relationship," he continued, taking her hand, "I think it definitely follows that's what this is."

He craned his neck very unsubtly in an attempt to see what was going on.

The Aviator rocked back on her heels. Her face felt very hot, but she squeezed the Detective's hand in return. "Good to know," she said, looking down at Elanor. The Time Tot was more interested in trying to chew on her shoes than anything else at that moment. "We should, erm, probably head back to our partners, then?"

Richard Legard was wearing a black trench coat with a gray collared shirt, black trousers, dark brown Cuban heeled boots, and a pair of red gloves. He also had a white bird-shaped mask with a black design around the eyes. The ensemble was pretty much out of a Disguise Generator. Marina Nicodelli had traded her black coat for a brown trenchcoat, the silver crucifix around her neck for a silver pentagram, and was holding a carved staff, with some cavity at the top of it.

"That's a rather easy disguise, you know Marina?" Richard said quitely.

"You were the one who gave me the idea, Richard," the dark-haired wizard said with a small smirk. "And a good one actually. And you can talk, with your DORKS."

"I couldn't find the right clothes, and... I don't think I'd have any chances of making something myself."

"Yeah. let's see if we can meet someone interesting".

Without further ado, the two of them splitted up, Richard wandering around while Marina went to the bar.

"'Efforts'? I... pretty much leaped on the idea while my partner was agonizing between disguises. The staff is a work in progress, and I took the coat and amulet he had prepared. He's the guy wandering around there, with the black coat, the mask and the curly hair. He cheated too, but belive me, that's for the better for him. I didn't really care for a particular disguise at the time, and was fully ready to go as myself and tell I was actually disguised as a wizard. Richard pointed out how ironic it was that I was one coat away from being disguised as Dresden, and the idea was just impossible to ignore. Besides, it did help him to make his own choice. He was thinking about throwing a dice to make his decision before that."

Dax's cheeks somehow managed to go an even darker shade of blue. "I'm terrible at sewing anything larger than tears in a cloak, so I kind of cheated and went naked." She nodded at Marina. "That, though—that's impressive. I was able to recognize it immediately, after all, and that's the important thing, yeah?"

"My partner is constently going through sourcebooks of different roleplaying games he can found, you wouldn't believe how many systems he knows. And there is one on my world too, and he has a character for it! Bad enough when I discovered it was a fiction centered on that guy Dresden. The way the Council sees him... is very different from the books."

The fact was, her partner didn't really live up like that, unless he was facing an interesting game, story or something else catching his interest, or if a mission or something else was really driving him up to wall. Not really for other people.

"A pity they don't have a karaoke. Nobody would disagree if I was stealing the scene rather than do the same to their hearts. Unless they dn't care abut the tune, but hey, that's karaoke for you."

At least that was in character alright.

((Trying to suggest the idea that with a mask on, Richard is pretty much showing a rather different side of him than the usual subdued one.))

"Just morph my vocal cords to that of a siren, and then everyone's falling all over themselves to say how great I am." She grinned unabashedly. "Maybe they'll have it at this year's winter holidays party."

"And actually, playing up with the tune could be something really interesting to do, so maybe you could try that?. In any case, I'll be sure to be there if there is really such thing for winter, and nothing stops you from giving it a shot at this moment," Richard said. He then began to look around. "Anyways, why don't we look for something interesting to do? Come on, it's Halloween, tricks are part of the fun. Or failing that, well something else!"

Marina shrugged slightly before looking at Dax, "Well, you heard him. Any idea?"

"Halloween isn't as big in France as it can be in say, America, so I never gave it an actual try as far as I remember. Dunno how big it is here in HQ, but... Willing to give it a try? If so, dibs on candies with red berries flavor or caramel."

"You'll do it without me, then," Marina said. "I got more than enough of that back home. Comparing inadequate disguises to the real deals far funnier for me now... When Halloween isn't a just a job night. I'll continue to enjoy that party."

"And I saw enough of trick-or-treating when i was a kid to be happy with it. Try it as much as you want, I'm fine being here, I won't get bored."

"Not even for showing two poors rookies the ropes of Halloween?" Richard said.

"Knock a door. Say 'Trick or treat' to the person opening. Collect candies. Avoid too much tricking in this place. Enjoy yourselves. If you fail that, you weren't ready for that dangerous mission anyways, and no mentor will help you."

Dax rolled her eyes. "Nah, I'd rather just stay here if it's all the same to you. Say, have you got any other Halloween traditions or anything? Where I came from, there was a harvest festival every year, but from what I understand that's closer to, uh... Thanksgiving, I think it was called?"

"Safer holiday too, without inspiration from a centuries or millenia old one, and no greater than usual opportunity for baleful rituals for wannabe Voldemort or actual monsters, humans or not."

"Well, we could always try minor pranks on other people to live the 'trick' part, since the treats are all around," Richard said, waving an arm in the direction of the buffets. "Just remember. Dibs on the caramel and red berries ones. Oh, and the ones with dark chocolate."

"Eh, when they showed the first trailer for Persona 5, the protagonist 'stole' the show for that. Killing the lights, Life Will Change playing, a perfect introduction for a Phantom Thief. You have a better idea?"

"Well, I'm out of tricking with technology, and frankly not that interested in participating," Marina said. "Still, I heard worst ideas."

"Now, give me a sailing ship, and I can do amazing things with her, but anything more complicated than a word processor and I'm totally lost." Dax cracked her knuckles. "Man, I really didn't think this costume through at all, did I? At least Mystique can morph clothes..."

"Why don't you suggest something to do? Way I see it, we're getting nowhere."

"Yes, we're supposed to have fun there, and that won't be working if we can't find something agreeing with you," Richard said. "Besides, not thinking too much through thing isn't necessarily bad. Heck, this is an halloween party, that's the moment or that."

Dax tapped her chin and looked around. "I think if I knew more about the holiday, I'd have better ideas, but my idea of a prank is pantsing a city guard and then stealing his keys when he's not looking. Should we just get some food instead? Those apples covered with the sticky brown substance look rather tempting."

Dax pouted. "Is everything in this room not safe for me to eat?" she asked as she walked over to the food table. "Like, I know all the things wrapped in foil aren't, but what about these things?" She pointed to a platter of celery smeared with peanut butter and dotted with raisins.

"Now, that's Halloween, a holiday pretty much defined by candies, and henceforth sugar."

"Well, there is peanut butter," Marina said. "i don't know what sort of thing it is on this platter, but I know there is a possibility sugar is present in peanut butter. Small doses, and not always, but... Well, guess you know irony and this place work together. How much sugar would be needed to cause a sugar rush?"

She helped herself to one of the celery sticks and began munching. "That's not bad," she said around a mouthful of food. "Want to get some more food and grab a table together? Feels like I've been standing up for ages."

It had taken a lot of coaxing and pleading, but Ix finally agreed to sew them matching costumes. Now, Charlotte was clad in an elegant, pale yellow gown, her hair curled in ringlets. Ix was wearing a black cape and had a white mask on the left side of her face, and she was clutching a rose in her sweaty hands.

"Hey! Nice costumes, you two!" an agent said when she spotted them. "But isn't your mask on the wrong side for the Phantom?"

"Izzy— Yeesh, cold," she mumbled quickly, looking down at the other girl's hand, but quickly shrugged it off and continued shaking Charlotte's hand. "Izzy Thawne. Floater."

She then jerked her thumb towards the food table. "And my food keeper... I mean, uh, mission partner over there is Matt. Used to cook in the Cafeteria, but I convinced him to switch departments! Anywho, care to join us for some food?"

Charlotte waved, then seemed to remember she was in costume and executed a perfect curtsey. "Pretty cool party, isn't it? Last year they had a band of live skeletons! Or, uh, undead skeletons? It was cool. What've you got there?" she asked, nodding at Matt's goodies.

"You've got that smell in your blood," Charlotte said. "And I'm not trying to be creepy when I say I bet your blood would have a lot of zing to it if I tried it. Not that I would, because that'd be wrong, but it's kind of interesting to speculate—"

Ix nudged her and she coughed, grinning sheepishly. "Right. I'm a Twilight vampire, if the telling people they smell good wasn't enough of a tip-off for you. And Ix is a witch! Hogwarts graduate, Auror, the whole nine yards!"

"I got kicked out before I finished tra—"

"You were like four days away from graduating, it was all but formalized at that point," Charlotte said, folding her arms.

Izzy leaned a little closer, her eyes starting to lit up the more she talked. "Like, you know, if it's possible to transfer the Speed Force energy through my meta connection, to maybe increase your natural speed? Or what eye color you would gain? Or what would—"

Matt cleared his throat, gently elbowing Izzy, before pushing in front of her.

"Did you just say 'Hogwarts'?" he turned to Ix, starting putting on a similar expression to his partner's. "Are you kidding me!? That's, like, the greatest thing in the fictional worlds! And it's a no-brainer you're a fully-fledged auror! That is beyond cool!"

"Don't be so modest!" Charlotte said to Ix. "Look, you go brag about yourself to Matt for a bit, I'm gonna talk to Izzy." She stepped around Matt to do just that. "I don't think the Flowers would like me doing that, since I'm not supposed to be eating fellow agents," she said. "But it would be really neat to find out—the only problem is, I've been off human blood for years now, and if I went back, bad things could happen. Makes it harder to keep control when someone gets hurt, you know?"

Ix turned to Matt, face still red. "Uh... I'm not really good at bragging, sorry."

"Look... Ix, was it? Yeesh, that's a bit hard to pronounce smoothly, sorry." He cleared his throat. "Look, Ix, in my book you're as much an auror as Mad-Eye was. Charlotte said you only missed graduation? You've done the training part and that. is. awesome." He pointed out the last three words by tapping the air with his finger. "So why not skip the bragging, if that's not your thing, and tell me a little bit about the training itself?"

~~~

"You know you're talking to a girl that can break the speed of sound in her pajamas?" Izzy grinned, as her conversation with Charlotte developed. "I can prooobably restrain you before you move one foot to hurt anyone... no offense, I'm sure you have it in you to not actually do that, but... y-you know, I think we've got the issue of safety covered."

"A lot of it was learning legal process, actually," Ix said. "Everyone thinks being an Auror is really amazing and all, duels with Dark wizards every day, but most of it is sitting at a desk doing paperwork and the like. They even said on our first day—if you're here for excitement and glory, get out."

"I can do the same, yanno," Charlotte said. "Break the sound barrier, I mean. Can't go much faster than that, though—especially not as fast as you." She grinned. "On the other hand, I'm willing to bet I'm much stronger."

"I guess I did let my inner fanboy take the reins for a moment there... Heh..." He scratched the back of his head. "To be fair, I have no idea how to hold a conversation. Let's see, let's see... How long are you here?"

~~~~

"So it's settled then?" Izzy grinned with excitement. "We're good for a little controlled test? Please give it a though or two."

"I don't suppose hooking you up to machines in Medical or FicPsych after gulping some of my blood comes into play, does it?" Izzy asked. "It would give us the best results, but regular observation of your behavior will be good as well. I can be about..." Her eyes quickly glanced upwards, "seventy percent sure you won't explode."

Izzy started fidgeting and gesturing around. "Worst case scenario, you implode and get stuck in the Speed Force, where you constantly relieve every moment of your past, your present, and your future, to a point of absolute insanity... But that only happened once, and the Flash did it on his own free will... Or..."

She extended her hand. It started vibrating incredibly fast, letting out small sparks of red electricity.

"You get a boost of super-speedyness. I don't know for how long, though."

~~~

"Come on, new best friend." Matt grinned gesturing over to where Izzy and Charlotte were. "Let's see what our ladies are conspiring about behind our backs."